#dibs on the drummer

[thegreatwicked]

Call Me Love

Friends, I have a lot of stories. Most of them are fanfiction BUT I have for the last little bit been working on some original content that I have been hesitant to share. BUT I am taking the plunge and sharing it with you and I hope you all like it or that it's at least as good as my fandom content. You guys are the best and your support means so much to me.

This is just a bit of fun following the classic musician boyfriend troupe, is it a troupe? Oh well. Here's the summary:

"Been on a bit of a dry spell lately, you know? So, when my mates dragged me to this party, I wasn't expecting much. Boring as hell, until I saw Kit. I mean, talk about a game-changer. I was just gearing up to make my move when bam! Jeff throws me onstage, and suddenly, the spotlight's on me. And wouldn't you know it, Kit's eyes are glued to me like I'm the main event.

So, after the show, we have this moment, you know? Like, I can feel the electricity crackling between us. And then, as we're chatting and flirting, it's like the night's got a mind of its own. Next thing I know, we're back at my place, ready to turn up the volume on more than just the music."

Look, fellas, it's not like we can help it, some things are just a matter of instinct. There’s a fundamental difference between us. Women, they're the ones to weigh up the odds before taking the plunge, they're doing the sums to ensure the risk is worth the reward and they've got solid ground to land on. I've seen my mates make snap decisions over far less than a pint. It doesn't mean we're stupid, it's just that we don't always think two steps ahead.

It's like we're just hardwired to focus on the physical stuff, whether it's getting into a row or getting into bed, especially if there’s a stunning girl in the mix. 

Fighting or fucking, it's all the same when impulse is involved. 

Our heads just start wandering. Hell, we’ll follow a nice pair of legs off a cliff, no regrets.

Don't matter if you're some high-flying politician, a holy padre, or just a regular bloke like me – the moment you spot a short skirt, your mind starts sprinting off to places it shouldn't. It crosses all sorts of boundaries, from social status, to race, to your job. We're all cut from the same cloth, really. It’s a bit comforting.

A look around the room shows the usual setup; my mates' having plenty of laughs and drinks as the Sunday night blues settle in like a heavy fog. The party's in full swing, bodies swaying to some indie track that probably peaked last week. Three days off work, gone in a flash, and come morning it's back to the daily grind. Should be having a blast, but for some reason, it's just not hitting the mark.

It's not a total drag, but honestly, I reckon I'd have been better off just lounging back home.

I'm only here 'cause Jeff, my mate, wouldn't stop pestering me until I agreed to come along. 'Anything can happen,' he says. Yeah, right. Except now, I'm bored out of my skull. As the music fades and the chance of any excitement dwindles, I'm almost ready to call it a night. 

But then, I spot her. Yeah, it’s a girl, ‘course it’s a girl.

It's not even her that first catches my attention, it’s the way the light hits the rings on her fingers, sort of glinting and glimmering; the same way light hits a disco ball. She looks a bit of a girly girl with long jet black painted nails that would do a number on any blokes back, just flying as she talks. Long, black, and glossy hair, that's bouncing with every laugh and toss of her head, a perfect frame for her face and a great smile.

Lighting up her whole face like she's about to spill some scandalous gossip. And those eyes? Well, I'd love to tell you the color, but she's just far enough away to keep me guessing. 

A long-sleeve black and red plaid slipping off her shoulder catches my eye, it 'fits' sure, but you can't tell me it's not a bit snug on her, though I'm not complaining one bit. She either didn't notice or she knows exactly what she's doing. Either way, it's not leaving much to the imagination, it's alright, I'm sure my imagination can fill in the blanks.

And it's not fully buttoned up either, teasing the whole room with a peak of her belly button and suddenly I'm thirsty as anything.

But what really gets me are those legs -- seeming to stretch on for ages all wrapped up in a tiny black skirt. Soft and curvy hips, the kind you just want to grab hold of, you know? And I'll be the first to say it -- she's got a great ass. Oh, are we surprised? Forgive me for being a guy, but it's impossible not to notice. 

Goddamn, I'd be hard-pressed to keep my hands off it, if I had her alone.

She looks a bit shorter than me, but then again, who isn't? Didn't get much from my old man; I take after me mum, except for the height—that's all him, towering over everyone like a human lamppost. 

I don’t have much of an eye for makeup, but I can definitely see some black around her eyes and something glittery that screams ‘The 80s glam rock never dies’ and I’d be willing to bet my last quid the last album she bought was Bowie. It’s a good look. 

And her lips? Full and lush, like they're tempting you to have a taste. Looks like a shade of purple to me, but I reckon some bird would pipe up saying it's actually plum or magenta or some fancy name. Women, they see colors us blokes just don't. And there she is, grinning like she's hiding something, looking at me. I mean, straight at me. Giving me a wink—or at least, I hope it's meant for me."

Lucky me, there’s not a cliff in sight.

I've been around the block, hit up more parties than I care to count. When music's coursing through your veins like it does for me, you crash as many parties as humanly possible, and belt out your tunes for anyone who'll listen. But in all those ragers, I never came across someone like her.

Not sure how long I’ve been staring but it’s long enough for my mates to notice, and they're wasting no time taking the mickey out of me for going all wide-eyed over this stunner. But you know what? I couldn't care less, hell, I don’t even hear them. 

I’m all for a bit of fast fun with a gorgeous face, but tell you something, these days I'm looking for something different. Someone I don't mind losing a bit of sleep with or shooting the breeze about music, sure, that’s one of the best bits. The sort of girl where every word I say means something to her, 'cause it means something to me, know what I mean? And those are a rare find.

You gotta set your sights on the ones who are in it for the sheer thrill of the party, not just to bag a member of the band; trust me, I’ve been a notch in plenty of bedposts to know. It takes a bit of legwork, 'cause they don’t just fall into your lap. 

The ones with genuine smiles, living for the music like we do, laughing like they couldn't give a toss who's watching—they're the ones who'll stick in your daydreams and drive you absolutely mental every second you’re not with her.

A girl who's all smiles, laughs, and just embraces herself—now that's it, ain't it? One thing's for sure: I gotta figure out her name, and I need do it quick before some other bloke swoops in, 'cause I ain’t the only one eyeing her up.

I’m not sure how I end up on the other side of the flat, but here I am, closing in on her. The music's pulsing through me, like it's trying to kick start a heart that's been asleep for too long. I start hearing Kickstart My Heart playing in my head with each step I take, that’s appropriate, innit? I can start to pick out the sound of her voice from the crowd she’s with now. And it's not like most girls', all sugary and high-pitched. Nah, it's got this sultry, smoky quality to it. It's like a cat's purr, the hum of an engine, the deep rumble of a bass guitar—all wrapped up in one. It's the kind of voice that could lead a bloke down some dodgy paths with just the right words.

Haven't got a clue what to say to her, but I'm praying I'll come off smoother than I feel, you know? Like Danny Dyer, Richard Ashcroft, or Alex Turner vibes or something. My mind's racing like a runaway train with no brakes, hurtling toward the great unknown. But just when I'm about to make my grand entrance, some git decides to slam the brakes on my progress with a heavy hand on my shoulder. And who is it? You guessed it – Jeff. Now, don't get me wrong, he's a decent bloke, but he's got a knack for rotten timing, don’t he?

“Oi, Ben, what's caught your eye? You seen a ghost or something?" 

Suddenly, his arm barrels around me with the force of a sledgehammer, sending me teetering like a drunk on a tightrope. I stumble, trying to regain my footing as Jeff pivots me away, and it takes me a sec to set us right before we go tumbling to the floor in a heap.

Jeff's definitely had a few, lumbering about with all the grace of a drunken stag in a pub garden. He takes a swig of his brew, his eyes darting around the room like he's trying to see through walls. Not keen on being the spectacle of the night, I set us right and shoot a nod back to where we came from.

“More like an angel,”

Then, he spots her. Jeff's gaze locks onto her like he's trying to crack a code. With a blasé shrug, he gives his two cents: 

"Yeah, she's kinda cute."

I do a double take. Jeff's comment throws me off more than a step—'cute'? Are we even looking at the same girl? 

She's gorgeous. 

Sure, she might be cute when all snuggled up in blankets in a cozy bed, but that's not exactly what I have in mind.

"You got a chat-up line?"

I ain’t got an opening line, and Jeff knows it. Good man he is, he don’t rub my nose in it, he shrugs and smirks, gesturing to our gear in the corner. 

"Come on, mate, let's give it a whirl."

I don't get it. 'Give it a whirl?’ What's he on about?

Right here, right now? Just grab my sticks and start banging out a beat like it’s all part of the plan? I wasn’t planning on playing, but the gear’s there, and the spark in Jeff's eyes tells me he knows something I don't. It could go two ways: he's either setting me up for a cringe-worthy crash and burn for everyone to have a laugh at my expense, or he's lining me up to be the main attraction. 

With Jeff, you never know for sure.

I’ve got no clue where this is heading, but I think, ‘Sod it,’ and just go with the flow. Jeff's got a knack for taking the mickey out of folks, but it's all in good fun. He's never let me down when I needed him to back me up on the dating front. If he chucks me to the wolves, I'll give him a right bollocking he'll remember for ages. And he knows it.

I settle in behind my drum kit, sticks in my hands calming those fluttering butterflies in my stomach. Maybe it’s for the best, 'cause I haven't drummed up a decent chat-up line. Jeff throws me a nod as he grabs his bass and starts plucking out a classic Clash tune, the rhythm flowing effortlessly from his fingertips as if he's been playing it since birth. 'Cause, well, he probably has.

My drums kick in, setting the rhythm for the song, letting it chase away my doubts, and soon enough, Pete joins the party with his guitar slung over his shoulder. As our music fills the room, drowning out any background noise, all eyes are locked onto us – including a set I still can’t quite make out the color of. But they're proper cracking, and I can feel them on me.

Looks like Jeff's a damn good friend after all.

She's giving me the once-over, and then some.

It's a small gathering, just a bash for no reason at someone's place, and there's no one here who's gonna give us a record deal. But her watching makes it feel like I’m headlining Glastonbury. I see her foot tapping to my rhythm, hips in sync with my bass drum – so I decide to throw a bit of swagger her way. I shoot her a cheeky grin, give a nod, you know, do what I can in the moment. She fires back with this minxy smile and a nod. Like I said, she's here for fun, and she's smashing it.

As usual, Pet’s killing it with his riffs and vocals that would make good ol' Joe proud, transforming our dinky living room into a jam-packed show. I love Pete, mate. He's a top-notch bloke who’s had my back more times than I can count. The guy can belt it out, shred those strings, and the crowd eats it up. Most girls naturally swoon over the frontman – it's only right. He's front and center, hogging the spotlight for the world to see, they're singing along with him. If he says jump, they jump; if he says scream, they scream. Leaves the rest of us feeling a bit sidelined, and by ‘the rest of us,’ I mean, well, yours truly. 

Happens to the best of us.

But that ain’t me tonight. There's just one girl I've got my sights set on, and she ain't paying Pete any mind at all.

One tune would've been good for me – but nah, Jeff's as crafty as they come, and reckons he's gonna spice things up. It's never straightforward, is it? It's like planning to have just a single pint at the local, impossible to stick to just one.

"Oi, you darlin's fancy any tunes?”

Is it just luck that he's eyeballing my raven-haired girl? Nah, never. He's the smooth talker, the geezer who stirs up the mob and gets 'em all buzzing. Pete's got the talent, yeah, but he's a bit of a hermit, comes off as the strong silent type.

Her lips curve into a smirk, and she gives that lip a playful nibble before diving right into Jeff's banter.

"How 'bout some Queen?" 

No British drawl in her voice, pure American charm. This shindig just keeps getting better.

"You got it, darlin', which one?" 

She leans to whisper to a friend, then shouts back something that drops my jaw: Another One Bites the Dust.

I don't know how she clocked it, but this tune’s my jam. It’s the first beat I ever banged out on the drums back when I was just a kid. I can play it blindfolded, in my sleep, or even when I’m completely sloshed. And tonight, I smash it like I'm jamming with the legends I’ve always looked up to; Roger Taylor, John Bonham, or Keith Moon. I’m no rockstar, and odds are no arena will ever chant my name. I’m just plain old Ben.

Tonight, though, I don't feel plain at all. Our eyes lock again, and again, and this time it feels like an electric current jolting through the crowd, straight from her to me.

I love seeing a girl having a blast, you get me? Not one of those trying-too-hard types – you can spot 'em easy enough. The ones trying to be sexy, trying to make everyone want them, the ones who try to be the center of it all by drawing all eyes on them, doing what they think people like. Some blokes dig that, but not me.

This girl though… Blimey, gotta get her name in the bag. She’s belting out the lyrics, swaying her hips to the rhythm of my kit, and hell, that's my kind of vibe. Nothing tops a girl who lets loose with her favorite tune, rocks an air guitar, and gets in sync with the crew over some banging music. And this girl is ticking all those boxes for me.

Never thought I'd be eager to wrap up a set, that ain’t usually how it goes, I’m the last one to leave, but Jeff's got the crowd whipped up into a bit of a frenzy. We're blazing through tune after tune 'til my arms are screaming for a break - a real feat, mind you. I've got the stamina to drum for ages, but tonight's thrown me for a loop. And even though I'm soaked through and my arms are like jelly, she's still got her eyes glued to yours truly.

Gonna give Jeff a ribbing later. I mean, couldn't he have thrown me a hint while I was tuning the drums earlier? ‘Hey mate, save some for later, yeah?’ But nah, cheeky Jeff always keeps me on my toes. Pete couldn't care less, though - he's just doing his thing, paying homage to our idols.

Ten songs. Ten bangers cooked up on the spot, and we smash every last one. When we hit that final note, Jeff shoots me a look that says, ‘Give 'em something to remember.’ So, I go all out. Pouring every last drop of energy into one insane drum solo. Might've put the flat's landlord on edge with the neighbors, but hell, it’s worth it. People usually focus on Pete and listen to Jeff, but now, everyone's looking my way.

With one last crash of the cymbals, Pete and Jeff are ringing out, and I’m absolutely knackered. All I need to set me right is a Carling, a cool breeze, and to give Jeff a sock in the shoulder. Oh, and I need to figure out what that siren's name is. But the way she lifts her bottle at me, I got a feeling my luck’s taking a turn for the better on that front after our little impromptu gig. 

Good ‘ol Jeff. Looks like I owe him one, even if he did throw me into the lion's den without warning.

I don’t give a toss about what my mum says; my sticks go where I go – school, dining table, church, and yeah, even in my back pocket after a set. Not that I'll ever say it to her face. I don't have a death wish, and mum would set me straight. Then she'd go and tell my nan, and then I'd really be in for it. I give 'em a twirl between my fingers and slip 'em right into my back pocket. 

Birds love that little trick.

My limbs are killing me as I rise from the kit, and with a bit of a wobble, I sling a dig at Jeff's arm – doesn't faze him, but Jeff, the proper drama queen, shoots me a look of feigned agony and belts out, goading me on. All in good banter, though, mates will be muppets. Besides, if I was really up for hurting him, I could, and he's clued up on that.

The old man didn't leave me with much, just some old-school parenting; meaning he'd give me a right bollocking whenever I cocked up. But he did school me a bit in boxing before he took off, and I ain't half bad, if I do say so myself. Way I fgure it, if the music gig goes pear-shaped, I reckon I could fall back on a career throwing haymakers.

Pete's completely lost, not catching a whiff of what's going on between me and Jeff. He just gives me a head shake and buggers off to grab a drink – he’s got the right idea. But before I can follow suit, Jeff clamps down on my shoulder again.

"Saw her clockin' you the whole set." He grins, nodding across the room. She's deep in a chat with another girl, stealing a quick glance our way, and shoots me another grin. "Don't say I never did anything for you, mate," 

What’s that supposed to mean? Oh, hell, what’s he about to do?

"Bloody hell, mate, you look fuckin’ wrecked! Go grab a bit of fresh air, yeah?" 

He’s all but yelling at me before giving me a kick in the arse to the blacony. Well, now the whole room’s looking at me. Right, reckon it's time to have that breather outside. Maybe I'll come up with something slick to say.

The cold air’s a slap in the face as soon as I step outside and it’s brilliant. Can feel the sweat on my arms, neck, and back turning icy, the kind of cold chill that tells you you're alive. This, right here, is what it's all about – not some dead-end job where your boss don’t even know your name, nothing to show for it by the time you hit forty. 

No, it's this – feeling the chilly air on your skin after you've nailed the best set while showing off for a girl you fancy. Playing till your arms ache, making mates among strangers, getting pissed and having a laugh with your found family, and then doing it all again the next day. 

This is the good life.

I’m drenched in sweat, probably don’t smell too good, but I can't be arsed to care. Just need a few minutes out here to sort myself out, maybe puff on a cig, grab a drink, and back into the thick of it to see where the rest of this party takes me, it’s starting to shape up a bit. 

Need to find out her name.

Behind me, a rush of air sweeps out as the door opens and closes, bringing with it the sounds of the party and the smell of weed; someone’s having a good time. It’s not my thing, just a smoke and a brew, I’m a simple bloke. I spin around, half expecting Pete to be standing there with a drink, ready to sort out the situation between me and Jeff and have a laugh at my expense. But it looks like Lady Luck’s taken a shine to me, there stands my mystery girl, looking even better up close, and not just because she's holding out a brew.

"Killer set," That smoke I heard is just as inviting as it was before our impromptu concert, but that voice of hers, even if she wouldn't give me the time of day, I'd still listen to her read the bloody dictionary.

"That for me?" I ask, nodding to the bottle she’s holding. It's a daft question, of course, but I like a girl with a sharp tongue, and silly questions are a good way to suss out quick wit.

She rolls her eyes and give a little shake of her head. "Nah, I just like carrying around two drinks 'cause I’m thirsty." 

Bet you are.

Those captivating eyes and that sassy mouth – got me hooked, I tell ya. As she hands me the bottle, her fingers brush against mine, and I swear there's a little spark there.

"Looked like you needed a pick-me-up," 

She clinks her bottle against mine. I knock it back, don't matter if it tastes like dishwater, the cold hits the spot after a solid set. And with this stunner serving it, it's as good as anything on the top shelf.

"Cheers for that, love," 

Local girls ain't too fussed about that endearment; it's as common as calling someone 'mate.' But with yanks, especially them girls, they lap it up and the grin she's throwing my way tells me she's eating it up too. 

"Never seen you here before," She shakes her head. "Who's your crew tonight?" 

Don't exactly fancy chatting up some bloke's little sister. Though she doesn't strike me as a kid, not with that fit bod, sweet curves, and those lush lips. What kinda brother would let his sister out of the house like that anyway? Still, I ain't up for any underage drama. If she's too young, I'm out. Don't need that hassle in my life.

"My flatmate and her girl; Stevie and Nicki."

I ain't got a clue who Stevie and Nicki are, but that's not surprising. People just show up to these things. I'll have to ask Pete later; he usually knows everybody. She doesn't mention a fella or being anyone's little sister, so far so good.

"Didn't know I was getting a free show,"

"Don't get too excited, love, only the first one's on the house." I smirk back, patting my pockets feeling around for a cig, but I come up short. Must've smoked my last one and forgot to get more, I ain’t nervous at all but still, it helps to have something to do with your hands. Damn, a smoke would really take the edge off.

Turns out, she’s already got me sorted without needing to ask. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a little metal case with a purple heart and this heart-shaped star looking symbol. It takes a second of staring at it before I can place it; it's the logo for H.I.M., that goth metal group from Finland, I think. Knew plenty of girls back in school who had crushes on the singer. Guess she's a fan of love metal too. Puts two smokes between her lips, and she sparks ‘em up before passing one to me. That electric jolt zaps me again as I take it. Inhaling deeply, that’s better. She’s left me a set of lip prints staining the cig – not some regular red or pink, more like a berry shade. I'm just staring at her for a moment, wondering just who this girl is.

"So, what’s your name? Can't keep calling you 'love.'"

She bites her lip again; she’s gonna bite clean through it if she keeps that up. Always wondered why girls do that. Well, not entirely – girls are cleverer than us blokes, and they know it drives us absolutely mental.

Where do you look when a girl's chatting you up? If you're smart, her eyes; if you're smitten, her lips; and if you're not quite there, maybe a bit lower, hoping for a glance back up before you get caught.

"Sounds nice when you say it," She says before extending her hand. "You can call me... Kit." 

She sounds unsure, like she just plucked it out of the air but I roll with it. Kit? Blimey, Kit? Better keep jokes about banging on my kit to meself, not sure how great her sense of humor is.

I shake her hand, being the gentleman my mum raised me to be, although I might look like one, the thoughts in my head are anything but gentlemanly. 

"Like a drum kit?"

"Yeah, like a drum kit," She smirks and gives a nod with a look on her face that says, 'You're adorable.'

"What’sa matter, love? Don't trust me with a real name?" 

I'm only teasing; I know it's a thing most girls do, can't be telling some bloke you just met everything; some guys are creeps. She's got her wits about her, I like that. My eyes linger a bit too much on how her lips handle the cig and that tiny ‘O’ they form when she blows out a cloud of smoke, while taking a puff on mine.

"Of course not. I mean, you're smokin' hot, but who knows, you could be a total psycho." I can't help but chuckle. A girl with a sense of humor gets bonus points in my book.

"Ben."

"Ben…" I like the way she says my name. "Cute."

"Ta, darlin’."

"I meant your name." Now she's taking the mickey, and I'm grinning like a proper muppet. This girl's got jokes, eh?

"Oi, reckon you're a smart one, yeah?" 

She puts on this act, playing all innocent, then drops, "I think I’m adorable."

That she is, that she is. No doubt there, either.

Ever get that feeling like someone's checking you out, giving you the 'come hither' eyes? But then, you realize they ain't actually looking at you but checking out someone behind or beside you? Well, that's not the case here. Kit’s locked on me, and it ain't my face she's after, though she seemed to like that too. 

Nah, I've seen that look before – the full-body scan, like she's deciding whether to dive into something wild. You know the one. And that's exactly how she's eyeing me, right down to my belt. Gotta admit, I’d be a tad self-conscious if I didn’t have a bit of a buzz going on.

Now, I ain't Mr. Vanity, and I know I ain't the top looker in the joint, but I scrub up alright. Between years of banging those drums and spare time in a boxing ring, I've kept myself in decent shape. I ain't no gym rat, but I got some lean muscle going on.

"Snap a pic, love, it'll last longer," 

It’s just a joke, I’m not bothered by her gawking at all, she can stare all she likes. Honestly, I've been watching her from the get-go, so it's only fair play.

This cheeky bird, she actually whips out her phone and snaps a picture of me. I was just having a laugh, but the fact that she bothered to grab her phone must mean I'm working some charm on her. She just shrugs, completely unapologetic.

"What? It's only fair, right?" Alright, she's got a point there, probably caught me checking her out earlier, not that I’ll admit.

"Dunno what you're on about, darlin'," I play it cool, but the look she's giving me says she knows I'm talking nonsense.

"Oh, come on, you’re no saint." Hitting the nail on the head. I let out a laugh, finishing up my cig. "I saw you checking me out. My eyer are up here, by the way.”

I exhale my last puff of smoke before crushing it on the pavement; her banter's razor-sharp, and this girl's mouth might just do me in. Wasn't planning on being so upfront, but she swung the door wide open. Can't whinge when I walk right through.

"Alright, darlin', let's get one thing straight. Gorgeous girls strutting their stuff in those short skirts are gonna turn heads. It's just the way it goes,"

"You think I'm gorgeous?" 

Walked right into that one, didn’t I? Course, I do, I’ve got eyes, don’t I?

"Well, you're a sort, no denying that, but who knows, you could be a total nutter," I shoot back, playing her game. "Short skirts, are eye candy to us blokes, love." She flicks her cig end and squashes it under her boot. "Gives a bloke have all kinds of naughty thoughts."

"Oh yeah? What kind of naughty thoughts?"

"The kinda stuff that'd get a bloke a slapped if he blurts it out," I feel like we're vibing on the same frequency, the excitement simmering. I can't help but wonder where this might lead; maybe things will get a bit more cozy? 

"Do I get a pic of you?" She shrugs, but flashes me this mischievous grin, like she's daring me to go for it.

Don't play games of chicken with me; you'll lose everytime. I'm as stubborn as they come. I dig into my pocket for my phone and snap a quick one. She's just leaning against the wall, looking way too good for such a casual pose. Now that I don't think she'll slap me, I steal a long glance at her, appreciating them curves she's got.

"Got a girl?" 

No beating around the bush, but she sure beat me to it. I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair.

"Nah, girls like the idea of dating a musician until they actually have to put up with it. They don't stick around much after that. It's not all rock shows and roses." 

She shoots me a pouty look, and her lips look like they're a treat to kiss. "Aw, poor you," She coos, and it gets me chuckling again, can’t seem to keep a straight face around this one.

"How about you, love? Got a bloke?" If she's got a fella, I just might cry myself to sleep. 

"Nope." 

I can't believe it, but I'm plenty grateful.

"How does that happen? You own a mirror?" I tease, hoping to see her laugh again. She does, and that lip-biting thing she does is really driving me wild but I reckon she knows that.

"Guys are all talk, they say they want a wild girl until they have to deal with one," 

Blimey, that's a statement that will live rent-free in my head for the rest of my life.

"Is that right? You a wild girl?" Suddenly, I wish I had another cig to occupy my fidgety fingers, but then I remember my drumsticks. Those trusty sticks are like an old friend in my hands, keeping me grounded in the rhythm of things.

"According to my mom and the fancy private school that kicked me out," She spills with a sly grin, like she's proper chuffed about it. Oh, there's a story there and I'm all ears.

Kicked out of a fancy private school? Aw, who cares? I'm no stranger to a reprimand from my school days, seen a few detentions and suspensions, never got the boot though, my mum would’ve had my hide.

"You're having a laugh, ain’t ya, love?" I decide to cut to the chase. "You got any clue what's racing through my mind right now?" 

"Why don't you share?" She says, leaning in closer. "Or maybe you should show me."

I blow out a breath and take a step back, fingers laced behind my head. This night, mate, it's gonna be one to remember. Kit’s something else. Absolutely gorgeous, killer smile, sharp as they come, and a cheeky side that's got me reeling.

"Where’s your turf?" I ask, trying to ease the tension. She shoots me a look that’s all confusion with a cute little head tilt, looks like I might've lost her, with a laugh I try again. "Whereabouts you from, love?"

"Seattle,"

I look around, it's not raining cats and dogs yet, but it's off to a fine start, you don't come to London to get away from the rain that's for sure. 

"So, you swapped the Seattle drizzle for the London pour, did you?"

"I happen to like the rain and Seattle has the distinction of being the birthplace of the kings and queens of Grunge.” 

Oh, she's a grunge girl, huh? Oh, now I can work with that. In fact, I see a spot for a bit of teasing.

"Well, it ain't the stomping ground of the Clash or the Who, or even Queen, but grunge is alright. Who are the rulers of grunge, huh? Just Kurt Cobain for you lot?" 

The gobsmacked expression on her mug tells me I've hit a nerve, but she's taking it in good spirits. I'm plenty clued up on Kurt Cobain and a few other names in the grunge scene – love the stuff. But you can suss out a lot about a bird by the headbangers she's into.

"Whoa, whoa now! Being a hottie doesn't excuse ignorance, baby. You're talking about the legacy bequeathed to us, the misunderstood youth, by musical legends like Lane Staley, Chris Cornell, Eddie Vedder, Courtney Love, Kim Gordon, Tad Doyle, and Kat Bjelland."

So, I’m a hottie, huh? Alright. I can roll with that. Those are some good names, she’s got some good taste and seems I've met an equal, full of fire and I get the feeling stepping on the toes of her heroes might see me tossed into traffic. I like a girl who knows her tunes. 

“Yeah, alright, fair enough, not bad for American music.”

"Well, you know, when it comes to Queen, it's all about Freddie Mercury, right? That 'stache is legendary and it may as well be the best part of her majesty's greatest hits. And The Who, they're cool, but let's face it – Pete Townshend's windmill moves look like something he practices in front of a mirror. Now, The Clash, they're rebellious and all, but Joe Strummer's voice is almost as rebellious as my mom when she catches me sneaking into the cookie jar."

Me jaws on the floor, drumsticks gripped tight, and the laughter bellowing from inside lets me know I'm the punchline of a gag. They might not grasp our chat, but the look of pure shock on my face says it all. Never been left completely gobsmacked until this moment. She's cheeky, firing back with that lip-licking sass, and the smug grin on her face tells me she thinks she's won this round.

“Now, now, careful there love, those are fighting words.” I take a step towards her and she takes one back, “Freddie's 'stache might be legendary, but let's not sleep on Roger Taylor's drumming magic with Queen – bloke's the unsung hero, keeping that beat alive. And about The Who, fair play on the windmill dig, but Keith Moon's drumming antics could give Pete a run for his money any day – he's the real show-stealer. Now, with The Clash, I get your point on Joe's voice, but let's not forget Topper Headon's rhythm skills – the backbone of rebellion right there. Drummers deserve some love too, you know. Maybe they don't get the spotlight, but trust me, they're the secret sauce. So, how 'bout we give a nod to the beat keepers next time we're bantering about the classics, eh?"

“Oh! Touched a nerve did I?” She’s grinning from ear to ear and it’s hard to pretend to be anything other than amused.

“Mind how you go with that mouth love, might land you into a bit of a mess.”

“Don’t worry, in my experience my mouth is very good at getting me out of trouble too.” 

I was right, she’s got that sass on tap, giving me a run for my money. Gotta cool this down again between us. Time for a change in subject.

"What brings you to good ol' London, reckon you didn’t come for the weather?" 

“Aw, no snappy comebacks? Shame, was hoping I might see more of what that mouth can do.” She gives a shrug and I’m in need of another cold brew, maybe a shower too. “My dad’s British, hangs his hat here," 

Say what now?

"Wait, your pops a Brit?" Can’t hide my surprise at that one, figured she’d be a student or just passin’ through.

"Yeah, swept my mom off her feet with that accent too," Too? Guess, I made an impression. "Mom and I aren’t exactly on the same wavelength, so I decided to give us both some breathing room and take my dad up on his offer to put down some new roots, dual citizenship and all.”

Hang on, what?

"You're a Londoner?" I point to the ground, trying to wrap my head around this girl's story. She winks, and I'm glad the conversation is still rolling. "So, you pop back for a visit, what else? What's your gig? Uni? Work?" I throw in, arms crossed, drumsticks still in hand.

"Got a job at my dads bike shop and that's good enough for me, right now.” 

She's like, 'Oh, I'm on the tools at my old man's garage.' Found me a girl who's a gearhead? This one ain't just a ten, she's up there in the high thirties. Should've been tuning in, but I was well gone, picturing her in them mucky overalls, splattered with grease and oil, outshining the other geezers. Blimey, she's still yapping away... What the heck is she on about again?

"Who has it all figured out in their twenties anyway? And what's the point? To slave away at some soul-sucking dead-end gig where your boss couldn't care less about who you are?" She shakes her head, like it’s common knowledge. "Hard pass on that, thanks. That's not what your twenties are for." I couldn't agree more, I tell ya, the more she talks the more relaxed she gets. Like she’s more herself, like she’s comfortable.

"What are your twenties for?" 

"Staying up late, listening to music, hanging out with friends, traveling, talking about life, making mistakes, breaking hearts, riding fast bikes, having good sex that makes your toes curl, figuring out what you like.” She pauses and it’s like she’s getting lost in her own thoughts, gotta say I wouldn’t imind getting lost there with her. "Showing up to parties and hitting it off with smokin’ hot drummers. This blond hottie told me they’re the secret sauce." 

No mistaking it now; the attraction's buzzing between us, loud and clear. Seems like the only move left is to take the plunge. Must've been on her mind too 'cause she don’t waste a sec.

"You know, you never did explain those naughty thoughts guys have about girls in short skirts."

I motion for her to come closer with a playful finger, but she stays put, shaking her head with a hint of mischief. Leaning back against the balcony rail, she's all confidence, like she knows I'll give in eventually. And of course, I do. Closing the distance between us, I cage her against the rail with my arms, and she settles in like she's gone and got exactly what she wants.

"You’re not going all shy school-boy on me, are you?" She teases, eyes full of mischief. I shake my head, getting in closer.

"Nah, ain't one to spill me fantasies for just anyone," I say, lips grazing her ear. 

I've got her hooked now.

I gently tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, tracing a finger down her cheek, stopping just short of her neck. Her skin feels like silk under my touch, and she smells incredible, like a lure drawing me in. But I've got my own tricks up my sleeve, and I start laying out the thoughts that have been brewing since I first laid eyes on her in that skirt of hers. Her eyes widen, and her face loses its playful demeanor, replaced by a raw desire and an electric tension between us. I'm sure everyone inside is watching, maybe even placing bets. But frankly, I couldn't care less. I haven't met a girl this cracking in ages.

And let me tell you, when she bites her lip, it's one thing. But when her tongue darts out to wet her lips, well, it's game over, mate.

"Yours or mine?"

Fucking hell. I’m well and truly done for.

"Let's make some music together."

A kiss can tell you a lot about a person, and with Kit, it's like she's setting my whole world on fire with just a simple kiss. She's got me in a spin, clouding my head, and making me forget my own name. I've locked lips with my fair share of girls, but maybe I've just not been kissing the right ones. Kit, she's different. She's all lips and tongue right from the start, and it's got my brain short-circuiting. It’s fucking brilliant.

We've barely set foot inside my flat, and before I can even shut the door, she's already giving my clothes a good tug, like they've gone and ticked her off. I've just enough sense to give the door a good kick to slam it shut. Tonight's been a stroke of luck, hasn't it? If I hadn't let Jeff talk me into going to that party, I'd never have crossed paths with Kit. Who do I thank? Jeff or Lady Luck? I'm not the type of bloke who buys into soulmates or true love, but I might be having a bit of an epiphany with this girl. And I've got her all night. 

What a smashing party. I owe Jeff a fucking drink.

I can’t tell if she’s aiming to kiss me or take a bite out of me, but frankly, I couldn’t care less. I’ve totally underestimated Kit. She’s not the type to sit back and let me do all the legwork. It’s a relief because she's kissing me like she’s on the clock. I can barely catch a breath between her lips, she’s somewhere between 'I want you' and 'You’re mine'.

The night ain't going anywhere, but she sure seems to be in a hurry to get us to wherever she’s got in mind. 

"Easy there, love. If you keep kissing me like that, I'll start to think you've got somewhere else to be. Might hurt my feelings," 

She gives me a grin, taking my hint, she eases off the gas, slowing our pace, kissing me like she’s trying to taste me in every way possible. 

That's more like it.

That plaid slips right off her shoulders once I've popped those buttons, won't be needing it where we're headed. This cheeky one ain't sporting much more than a teensy crop top, it’s so faded it’s almost see through, and she's got some ink peeking out. You know, the usual girl stuff – roses and thorns. But it suits her, curling around her ribs and down her hip. I wonder what else she's got tucked away. 

"Bedroom?" She asks in between kisses, tugging my jacket off and letting it fall to the floor. I nod behind her, and we start making our way.

Never been happier that I bothered tidying up the place than I am right now. I can even brag that my bed's sorted—nothing posh like them hotel bed-making wizards, but it at least gives off the impression that I'm not a total mess. I fumble for the light switch and dial it down a tad. What can I say? I've got a touch of the romantic in me, and I know girls ain't exactly fans of having a spotlight on 'em.

We stumble toward the bed, not far at all, a right mess of limbs. She yanks my shirt over my head, and I catch that look she gives me, somebody’s hungry. It never gets old how a girl looks at you like you’re a snack they can’t wait to get their hands on.

“Find something you fancy?”

I reckon she likes what she sees, judging by the way she grabs me by the belt with a solid tug bringing our hips together, and that's me done, right there. I love a girl who ain't shy about what she wants. Her lips are back on mine, and I can hear things hitting the floor – keys, a phone maybe; hope it's still in one piece, but I can't be arsed to care. It's just noise. 

We finally land on the bed, snagging a spot on the edge and I pull her onto my lap. Her mouth’s hungry against mine and she moans, and that's how you know you've kissed a girl just right – they start making noises like that.

Her hands are all tangled up in my hair, and it's bloody brilliant. I'm a sucker for a girl who messes with my hair or gives it a little tug when things heat up, gets me going for sure. Sends shivers racing and tingling across your skin, sets your nerves off. Every time she lays one on me, I'm losing the plot. She's pure fire, mate, and it's been ages since I felt this top-notch. I'm all in for a girl who knows her stuff, but I dropped some truths on the balcony back there, and I reckon I better up my game if I'm gonna walk the talk.

"Easy there, darlin', catch your breath," I say, panting a bit myself, but the look she’s giving me? 

Is she giving me a pout? Oh, she's playing the spoiled princess. Gonna have to sort that out, ain't I?

"I’m not known for being patient," 

She makes a move to kiss me again. But I'm quick on more than just my drum kit, and I pull away, leaving her looking like she might chew me out instead of locking lips. I give her hips a little pull, letting her know who’s holding the cards here.

"Oi, sweetheart, gotta pick up the knack. Patience is a virtue, innit?"

"What’re you my priest now?" We both have a laugh at that one.

A priest? That'd be a right laugh, wouldn't it?

"You spot a collar 'round me?" 

I lift my chin, playing along. But that was a blunder. She doesn't miss a beat, yanking on my hair, throwing my head back and I groan before swooping in to plant kisses and bites on my neck, leaving marks my mates will rib me about no doubt. She's causing an absolute ruckus, and I love every second of it.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," She breathes out, the words tingling on my skin. "It's been three weeks since my last confession. I confess to the following sins: I followed a man I don’t know home, I took my mclothes off and let him put his hands on me, kiss me and touch me and I liked it. I deeply regret these and all the sins of my past."

Oh, bloody hell. That kinda talk is steering me into territories I might not make it back from—places involving schoolgirl skirts, confessions, and a bit of a spanking, and I'm already knee-deep in it.

"Wait a tick, love. Not just yet, yeah? You trust me?" She stops and is giving me a serious look, as if she's pondering that question for real, as if it never occured to her. Honestly, it's a bit of a daft question this late in the game.

"Do I trust some random drummer I went home with?" She’s rubbing my shoulders and my neck like she’s trying to put me under a spell, and it just might be working. "Yeah, why not?" She finally says. "Think I can trust you with giving me a good time, at least."

"Yeah, you can, darlin'," I assure her, "I'll look after you, can bet on that." I plant another kiss on her, taking it easy this time, savoring the lick of her tongue, and she goes along with it wrapping her arms around my neck. "Now, turn around."

She's looking a bit confused now both by my words and the sharp tone I gave her, like she's trying to figure out what she’s gotten herself into. But told her I'd take good care of her, didn’t I? After a beat she slides off my lap and turns around, perching on the edge of the bed with her back against my chest. She looks over her shoulder at me, but that's not where I want those eyes of hers.

"Close, love, but not quite spot on." I turn her head to face forward, and she sees what I wanted her to see—the full-length mirror on the wall. She's a bit more intrigued now, leaning back against me more easy-like. "And one more thing,"

She doesn't resist or play shy when I nudge those long legs open, slipping them over mine so she can’t close them in a hurry and it’s a sight. All splayed out on my lap like a centerfold, that skirts working overtime now. A few kisses along her neck, and she's getting all cozied up to me. Being this close, I catch a whiff of her scent, sweet as oranges. I bet she tastes as good as she smells. 

"Now, ‘bout them naughty thoughts, yeah?" She's got this look in her eyes like she's realizing what kinda situation she's landed herself in. She said her mouth was good at wriggling out of tight spots, but that ain't happening just yet. "You’re not goin’ all shy on me now, are you, darlin'?"

She grins and gives me a little head shake, “You sure?” She nods, taking a shaky breath as I slide my hands under her skirt. 

I can feel the heat coming off her skin, all hot and soft between her legs. Not sure what I'm digging more, the silky insides of her thighs or how she shivers just a bit with every touch. She closes her eyes, but that won’t do for what I’ve got planned, nah, I want 'em open. I want her to soak in every bit of what's about to go down, I want it burned in her brain.

"Eyes open, love. You've got a show at the party. Think you owe me one, yeah?" 

That got her attention, didn’t it?

I can see the jitters behind her gaze, but she's determined not to let it show. With each touch, her body's lapping it up. My fingers glide up the inside of her thigh, getting closer to her center with each pass. Chest rising and falling like mad with every rough breath. She's already wet for me, and I can't wait to taste it. But before I do, I want to tease her a bit more. 

My fingers teasing the edge of her knickers with these little featherlight touches, she lets out this tiny gasp and twitches when I give her a little tap, I can't help but grin at the effect I’m having on her. I’ll give her credit though, she doesn't shy away or close her legs, instead, she's watching me dead-on through the mirror. Every little touch has her squirming.

"Feelin' a bit antsy, Kit? How long's it been?"

"Like eight months."

Can't help but suck in a breath at that, almost hurts to hear. No wonder she’s craving a touch like a cat on heat. 

“Oh, poor you, eight months since anyone touched you, like this?” I run my fingers under the top of her knickers and she gives this little desperate groan. Promised I'd take care of her, so let's get to it. "Don't worry, love, I'll go easy on you, the first time, anyway."

My finger slips under her knickers and I tease her slit, Jesus, she’s wet.

The noise she makes when I finally lay a finger on her sends all the blood in my head straight to my cock and suddenly these jeans are a bit tighter than I’d like, but that sound—a mix of a moan and a gasp. It's a sound full of need and desperation, the kind you make when you want something so bad you don't care how it sounds. Definitely one for the spank bank. I'm gentle, but still a tease, when I press against her clit, rubbing it gently with my thumb.

She's hot and wet, and every touch makes her tremble and I’m a liar if I said I didn’t want to just rip that skirt off and sink my cock into her. All things in time, right?

"Fuck," Poor darling, she’s all breathy and I’ve barely touched her, “Ben…”

Oh, yeah, I could listen to her saying my name like that all day. "Yeah, Kit?" That curve of her neck was made for kissing and her skins too perfect to not mark it up.

"Come on, don’t tease, please?” Oh, I love the way she says please like that.

"You reckon this is a bit of teasin'?" I see her eyes go wide and she looks at the grin I’m wearing without taking her eyes off the mirror. "This ain't teasin', not by a long shot." 

I find that special spot on her neck that has her squirming against me, and I give it a nip. 

"Could give you a taste of some teasin', though." I take my thumb off her clit and she actually pouts and whines, don’t seem too keen on someone threatening to play keep-away with her orgasm. 

"Ben..!" 

Oh, that indignationin her voice is cute. I’m not a complete bastard, but I’m also no saint, so I start up again teasing her clit, her eyes shut, and her head's rolling back and forth on my chest like she's caught in some sweet dream with each touch. She's taking those deep breaths, you know, the ones when you're so relaxed you might as well be drifting off for a kip, that is, till I stop again and take my hand away completely.

Before she starts whining about it again, I snag her jaw and drop a rough kiss on her, like saying, 'I’m the boss here,' my tongue leading the way, showing her how we're gonna play this game.

"Here's the deal – you keep them eyes open, watch what's happening, and I won't tease you.” I let her go and reach back between her legs to give her more soft little touches close to where she wants them that leaves her rocking against my hand, “But if those eyes close or you look away from that mirror, I'll edge you until you cry." 

Her jaw drops, and her eyes get all big at my proposition and I can practically see her mind processing what I just said. I can tell no one's ever laid it out like that for her. But not only that, she seems to like it. 

"Deal?" 

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and instead of answering, she just looks back at the mirror. Her arm snakes around my neck, fingers twining in my hair and my neck. If she finds a bit of control comforting, then she's welcome to it.

"Good girl." 

I'm a man of my word, and as long as she's watching, I plan on delivering. "Been thinkin' about this too." I let my hand fall down her chest, thumb brushing her belly button and she squirms and jumps, seems somones a tad ticklish, but that stops as soon I pull that skirt of hers up just a bit.

I give her knickers a little tug, sliding them to the side to get at her, and she jumps a bit when I finally touch her again. I smirk, pleased with myself for getting her all riled up. 

"How good you'll look with my hand between your legs, touchin' you, maybe just a bit of teasin',"

"Ben, you promised…" Poor darling’s in a state, wet with need, it don’t take much before my fingers are nice and slick. "Ben…" 

"I’m not teasin’, just warming you up." Can’t believe it’s been eight months, gonna fix that, I start making little lazy circles around her clit. 

I’ve got no control over the smug grin on my face, I’ve got her all spread open on my lap, watching me have a bit of fun. She’s mewling like a kitten, twitching every so often. Her eyes flutter for just a second before she forces them open. Instead, she’s biting her lip, not to wind me up, but to keep from closing her eyes. I’m getting goosebumps from her tugging on strands of my hair. I can tell with her, it ain’t gonna be long before I’ve got her moaning my name. 

She’s breathing heavily through her nose. I know it ain’t gonna take much until she’s done for – I’m good at this type of thing.

"How’s that feel, love? You like this?" My voice is low and husky in her ear and I go back to rubbing her clit with my thumb, slowly but steadily increasing the pressure. 

She nods slightly, struggling not to shut those eyes and slip into a trance. "Yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

She huffs out this sort of frustrated gasp, and I know full well she wasn’t expecting this from me. To be honest, I wasn’t either. It’s not my usual style, but I’m enjoying it, that’s for sure. If this is a one-night stand type of situation, it’ll be one for the books. If it’s more serious than that, well, what a way to kick off a relationship. 

She wiggles against my hand, looking at my reflection. "I love it," Good enough, my grin is as cocky as they come, but she's behaving, so I'll give her what she wants.

"Girls in short skirts, babe, this is what it does to us poor blokes.” A little shift on the bed and she can feel me against her arse, I’ve been rock hard since I kissed her. “Feel that?” She nods fingers tangling in my hair, I can feel the way she’s tensing up, the way she’s starting to strain against my touch.

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout this, wonderin’ about all them noises you might make when I got my hands on you," 

I speed up those little circles, and she's writhing against me, cheeks flushed, eyes still open and watching, but it's tough on her, bet she’d love nothing more than closing’ her eyes and relax.

I give her ear a nip and a lick. She tries to dodge my mouth by rolling her neck, but it only makes me chuckle. Cute how she thinks that’ll stop me. 

"You’re a sensitive thing, ain’t you?,"

With one hand busy between her legs my other is feeling a bit bored, so I inch my way up her ribs, to the edge of that little crop top she’s wearing, I push it higher, so I can see the curve of her breasts from under her top. She can’t roll away from me now, maybe she should’ve just let me have at hear ear, eh?

She lets out this little gasp when I toy with her nipple, my fingers teasing and twisting, bucking against my hand between her legs. If she was having a time keeping her eyes open before, no doubt I’ve just made it loads worse. I’m grinning like a cheshire cat into her neck as I keep playing with her, mixing up light pinches and feather-light strokes that have her moaning and squirming against me.

Can’t imagine what its doing to her, watching us in the mirror, but I know for sure what its doing to me. Every little twitch, buck and squirm against me makes my cock throb. One hand teasing her pussy, the other having a bit of fun with her tits. It’s a hell of a sight – watching this girl gradually slip into madness all because of me. 

I'm playing with her like a puppet, slowing down and she whimpers, then speeding up and she moans. She's ready so fast, it's like a hairpin trigger. I bet I could make her come with just a few words.

But that's no fun, is it?  

"You know what?" Kit's struggling, chest heaving, thighs thembling against my hand but she gives me a desperate-sounding 'hmm?' "I like the noises you make, ‘specially when I do this," I stop the circles and lightly tap her clit several times in quick succession, and she jolts, her eyes wide open now, letting out a shocked gasp. 

"Got you all worked up, do I?" 

She's starts to nod her head but sort of gets lost and her mouth falls open in a moan that goes straight to my cock when I change it up and slipping a finger inside her and my palm is flat against her clit now. Fuck she’s tight as hell, pulsing with every little movement, can’t imagine how good she’s gonna feel when I sink my cock inside her. 

As I thrust in and out nice and slow, curling my finger just right to hit that spot inside her that's got her writhing and moaning like nothing else, her eyes flutter a bit and for a second it looks like her eyes are gonna win out and close.

“Uh-uh, love, keep 'em open, or you won’t like what happens.” Her eyes pop open but it’s an uphill battle for her, and I’m not exactly taking it easy on her. “Think you can take another?” 

Kit lets out a low whimper and her hips buck against my hand. Blimey, she’s so sensitive, it’s like playing an instrument and I just can’t get enough of it. 

But then something changes - maybe it’s because of how close she is to coming undone or maybe it’s because she needs more than just one finger inside her - but Kit starts pushing against my hand between her legs, trying to crawl up and away. Is it too much for her? Or is she after more than just my fingers?

"Oh no you don't," I growl playfully into her ear as I quickly move my other hand from where it's been teasing one nipple to wrap around Kit's waist and hold her still.

“That’s not an answer, Kit. You want another finger in your pussy?”

“--Please!” She seizes up when I add another finger as promised and I slow down, grinding my palm against her, and her knees draw in a bit but she can’t close her legs, not how I’ve got them wide open.

"God Ben!"

"How 'bout it, love? You gonna come for me?" 

I’m really laying it on thick, breathing heavy on her neck having a nip at her ear, she’s ready to go.

"Yeah!" I've been a bit hard on her; best give her a break. "Ben!"

"Not sure, darling. I like this view. All laid out for me, are you sure you're ready to finish so soon? It might be a long night ahead…" The slight whimper she makes sounds so desperate, she can’t quite get any words out, but that’s alright. Think it’s time gave her what I promised, I speed up again making sure to keep my palm firmly agaisnt her clit and I keep moving my fingers inside her not slowing down as she gets tighter on me, crushing my fingers.

"Kiss me, and I'll make you see stars."

She don’t need telling twice, and damn near rips my head off with that kiss, it’s messy and hot, just like the way we’re both feeling right now. A hungry tangle of tongue and lips; moan spilling out. She starts kissing me harder and deeper than before, mad with need. She bites down on my bottom lip kind of hard and let's out this low moan that makes the hairs on the back of neck stand out straight. So she likes it a bit rough, eh? Fine by me.

I give her pussy a soft spank, sending her over the edge and she comes; crying into my mouth while I switch back to those circular motions on her like she's a wind-up toy.

You gotta love the way a bird kisses you when she's in the throes of it. They just don’t care.

It's wild, they’re unhinged, like being mauled by a blooming tiger. They way they claw at you, they just want every bit of you and Kit’s no different. Shoving her tongue down my throat, hands tangled in my hair, pulling, tugging and scratching. 

My fingers are slipping and sliding over her, fucking hell, she’s a wet mess, legs straining against me like she can’t decide if she wants to come or go, shaking against me as I keep moving my hand to prolong it for as long as possible. It's like watching a firework go off right in front of you; bright and explosive. And hell, all that wiggling she’s doing? I can feel my cock twitch and throb and fuck it almost thurts.

After a minute though, the sensitivity starting kicking in and she's starts squirming against my hand, moaning and whimpering. And I’ll admit, I get a bit lost in me thoughts. So much so that I don’t quite notice how she starts saying my name a few seconds in, and she almost sounds like she’s gonna cry, hips bucking to get away from me. 

Best start calming things down and giving her poor clit a break, I take my hand away, switching to soft caresses on her thighs that still see her twitching anytime I touch her.

Our lips slows down to a smoldering pace until she's breathless and she goes a bit limp against my chest, her lips are quivering, and she's chewed on that poor thing so much it's now all red and swollen—poor darling.

"Good girl," 

She unhooks her legs from ‘round mind and just sort of sits there against my chest catching her breath, rubbing her thighs together. I can see the shudders racing over her body, can’t help the grin I’ve got plastered onto my face, no better feeling than having a girl come undone for you like that, except having her swallow your load down. 

Hell, they’re both pretty bloody good.

"Ben?" She gives a cheeky grin as she turns to face me, plopping onto my lap like a contented cat. 

Quick on the uptake, she takes my hand, fingers still wet from her pussy, slipping one of them into her mouth one at a time, giving them a nice suck. Blimey, that gets the blood pumping, doesn't it? And those little sounds she’s making? Those tasty little moans? Fuck me.

"Hmm?" Can’t keep the satisfaction out of my voice, even if that mouth of hers is reminding me just how much I’m needing some attetnion too.

"That was hot." She’s all out of breath and I’m grinning ear to ear, “Mean.” She nips at my fingertip with her teeth and it almost smarts a bit, yeah, I reckon I might have gotten carried away a bit. “But hot.”  

Suddenly, it's like flipping a switch from a contented kitten to a wild tiger; she’s practically climbing me like a damn tree me. Shoving me onto my back, her tongue plunging into my mouth, clawing at my chest, making her way down to my belt. 

Sure, I could've put up a bit of a struggle and not made it so easy, but hell, she's earned some top time. Fellas, what is it about a girl in a short skirt taking charge, pinning you down, that gets your pulse racing?

My belt hits the floor with a clink as she tosses it aside, then she’s working the button and fly of my jeans, ripping them down my legs, got me down to my boxers in record time. No time for my protests, 'cause she’s grinding against me and I can feel her knickers all soaked against my cock, and let me tell you, I'm more lost than a tourist in the East End.

Her hands are strolling down my stomach scratching, tickling in spots, just about teasing the waistband of my boxers. Seems I might be in for a dose of poetic justice. Kit ain't the type to settle for a bit of pettiness – she's the sort who'll hold a grudge and make ya pay for it. But as long as the payback doesn't involve too much dilly-dallying, it can't be all that bad, can it?

The bruises she's leaving on my neck'll likely be the talk of the town tomorrow when I'm catching flak from the lads, but right now, it don't bother me none. Let her leave me marked up. I've been in worse states for less enjoyable reasons. Rather be covered in love bites from a gorgeous girl who’s got me pinned to a bed, than some sweaty bloke in a boxing ring trying to beat me to a pulp.

Trying to cobble together a coherent sentence is like trying to crack rocket science with a head full of fog. Especially when she’s planting all these wet kisses on my stomach and the occasional nip is her way of driving her point home, followed by that flick of her tongue. 

"K-Kit. Come on now, love." It's a real struggle to push those words out, and when I finally manage it, she eases up and locks eyes with me, that mischievous 'hmm?' dancing in her gaze. “Thought we said no teasin’…”

"You think this is teasing?" She purrs, her fingers teasingly sliding into my waistband, pulling ever so slowly. “That’s cute.”

Yup, I've punched in for a hefty payment on my little teasing debt.

"Close your eyes, Ben." 

Sounds easy, don't it? But it's like diving into the deep end without knowing how to swim. Sure, I take a deep breath, trying to keep calm, but then she starts working her magic. Those lips of hers leave marks on my hips, and suddenly, calm's the last thing on my mind. And with my eyes closed everything feels more intense, got me squirming and questioning every choice that brought me here. But, damn, ain't it something? Feels like I'm walking the tightrope, completely at her mercy. Suppose it’s only fair, since I had her at mine just a bit ago

"Ben?" 

I gulp, and manage a mindless, ‘Yeah?’

And then comes the killing blow, dropped with the finesse of a sledgehammer: 

"Tell me what you like." 

Oh, fucking hell, it’s not so easy when I’m this turned on and my brains operating on limited blood supply since it’s all gone straight to my cock.

"W-what I like?" Kit's got her own ways of winding me up, and I groan inwardly. I don’t bloody care I'm so damn hard it hurts; it's agony having her this close but not touching me the way I want. 

But there's an easy fix for that, right? Just tell her what I want, right?

There's just no proper way to tell a girl I met an hour ago that I want her to suck my cock without coming off like a right prat. If she was my girlfriend? Yeah, I'd be more forward, hell, I’d say worse but considering I've only just met Kit tonight, if that ain’t her cuppa tea, then this evening might not go as smooth as I’d hoped. 

Can't say I didn't bring it on meself, though. Might've given her a bit of lip, but this right here feels like a full-blown masterclass in payback.

"It’s not that hard, Ben. Well," She takes a pause rubbing my cock through my boxers, and it feels so bloody good, I try to hold back a pained groan but it slips out and I sound downright pitiful.

"I guess it’s a bit hard. But, if you’re having trouble articulating those thoughts, I think I can figure out what you want."

She gets to it, licking my skin, but not where I fancy, and she's got this little moan she does when her hand finally slips inside my boxers, her fingers wrapping around my cock. My whole body tenses at the sudden contact and I let out another deep moan.

"W-what do you reckon I'm after? —Ah, fuck!” She sucks hard on my hip, and I can finally feel my boxers are gone, and bloody hell, I’m standing at attention, desperate for those lips of hers to wrap around me. 

It shouldn’t be this hard to get simple words out. The fuck’s wrong with me?

“I think you want me to suck your dick, but you don’t wanna sound like an ass.” Kit’s got this way of saying things with a deadpan expression that just cuts to the chase. She's figured me out, and I can't help but smile and chuckle a bit. This one's a winner.

"Let's start with this," She’s purring like a cat, her voice dripping with desire. "Tell me how I can make this feel better."

I throw my head back onto the bed, seems she's less tiger now and more sex kitten. Her movements are slow and deliberate, won’t be long before she’s got my toes curling. And when her thumb brushes against the tip of my throbbing cock, it finally shakes loose something in my voice.

"—More," I manage to gasp out, barely a harsh whisper. "A-Anything you want, just don't stop."

"How about this?" She lets go of me and I feel like a balloon losing air, tension in my muscles melting away, and fuck, I want it back. 

"Lick." 

My eyes pop open and her hand hovers in front of my lips, how does she make such a simple word sound so dirty? My senses go into overdrive as I look at her fingers, the ones she just had wrapped around my cock, fingertips glistening with my precum. Her lips are slightly parted, curved up into a tiny smirk, just waiting, and I’d bet my last quid she’s just as turned on by this as I am. So I grab her wrist and yank her on top of me and she lets out a surprised squeak, hair cascading over her shoulders like a curtain around us. God, she looks good like this.

And I give her what she wants, flattening my tongue for a slow, wet lick of her palm, ending with a flick on her fingertips for good measure, putting on a little show for her. Sending clear signals about what I'm capable of, and by the look in her eyes, she gets the message loud and clear. The slick sound of my tongue on her skin is downright indecent. It's wet and wicked, every lick brimming with dirty thoughts, leaving no doubt about what I'm planning for my next move. 

She’s sweet and salty, a mix of how she tastes and whatever lotion or perfume she's wearing. The sound of my tongue working over her palm and I reckon I get a bit carried away slipping between her fingers but it only adds to the heat between us. 

She’s got a grin on her that could charm the devil himself, and I'm a bit reluctant to let go of her hand, I was having a bit of fun, but with a tug, she slips out of my grip. Shame, I had a whole act planned for her, but she don’t leave me hanging either. Dropping down to plant one on me, licking at my lips. A heartbeat later, I'm groaning into her mouth when I feel her wet grip around my cock. Fucking hell, it's good, I needed that bad. With every stroke and twist, my hips are moving on their own accord, thrusting up, fucking her hand.

"Like that?" That voice of hers, it’s pure fucking sex.

"God, yes," I gasp, my mind all over the place as she keeps working my cock, that thumb of hers is back to swirling around my crown. 

"Tell me what you want,"

Blokes ain't just after handjobs for foreplay, mate. Sure, it's alright, but let's be real, we're just not after that. We can sort ourselves out in that department just fine. No offense, ladies, but we've got the self-pleasure game down pat, better than you lot, by miles. What we really love is you taking us as deep as you can go, gagging and choking on us 'til we're spilling down your throats. And we’ll love you even more if you swallow it.

Every bloke loves it, and I'm no exception.

I’m pretty sure Kit’s clued in on that, I bet she’s just the type to get off on dirty talk and as soon as my brain starts back up I’ll give her all she can stand.

"Fuck… Kit—!"

"Call me love," She coos. "Say it, Ben. Tell me what you want, baby." 

My brain is short-circuiting. But she ain't letting up, moaning and whining like she's the one being denied pleasure. And when she calls me 'baby' with that need in her voice, well, that does it for me.

Something surges through me and I sit up and grab her by the back of her neck. Yanking her in for a savage kiss, my tongue takes over, exploring every nook and cranny of her mouth like I’m starving for her. Because, well, I am.

"Love," I growl, my voice heavy and deeper and it’s got her attention, "Get down there and suck my cock like a good girl." 

I’m a bit surprised at meself for how quick and easy she’s got me wound up like this, but the look in her eyes tells me; I’ve cracked the code and she loves it.

I've been half the night thinking about the color of her eyes, but I've only just clocked their hue. Yeah, I know, it's a bit rotten that I only catch it when she's about to give me a treat, but damn they're stunning. One's green, the other's blue, no, I can’t be more specific, they’re probably some magical shade of cerulean is a blue, innit? She flashes me a cheeky grin and gives me a long lick before taking me in her mouth, and let me tell you, the relief washes over me like a cold pint on a hot summer's day. Fuck, I’ll check a color wheel later. 

And I never want it to stop.

My head falls back against the bed when she finally sucks me in deep, swirling her tongue around the head of my cock, bobbing up and down. I’m moaning and groaning as she takes me all the way to the back of her throat, choking a bit but never stopping or pulling away like some girls would do. 

She uses one hand to stroke my shaft while the other cups my balls, rolling them gently between her fingers. That’s the fucking ticket! Holy shit. It’s driving me absolutely mental and I can feel my orgasm building with every lick and suck.

My hips start moving involuntarily, thrusting up into her mouth, I can’t bloody help it.

At this rate, it won't be long before my neighbors decide to come knocking, it’s late and they’re probably sleeping or trying to. Now, I like my neighbors just fine, they're decent folk, but right now, they can sod off to hell. All my focus is on the pleasure coursing through me, and I'll throw fists with the first tosser who dares interrupt this.

Her mouth is like hot, wet, velvet on my skin, scorching and slick, as she swallows me down again and again. It's so fucking good, especially when I hit the back of her throat each time. My eyes squeeze shut; that's what blokes like. Sucking and licking, I can't stop the thrust of my hips, I know it ain’t nice, trying to gag a girl on purpose but fuck it just feels so damn good. I'm probably a sweaty mess, hands tangled in her hair, shifting it aside so I can watch her, best view in the house, innit?

When I look down, her lips are wrapped around my cock, glistening with spit, eyes shut in pure ecstasy. The way she moves her head up and down, taking me in deeper and deeper, it's like she's the one getting off and not me.

“Fuck!” It comes out a growl, hell, I don’t even sound like meself right now. "You fuckin’ love this, don't you?"

The sight alone could make me cum. But the sounds. Fucking hell, the wet sounds of her lips sucking, slurping, and licking, she’s doing it on purpose, I know that. 

Her tongue's doing this mad dance underneath, swirling and flicking with moves so spot-on I forget to breathe for a tick. When she gets to the tip, her lips close around me, sucking out every drop of pre-cum, like I’m a goddamned lolly. 

I'd never say it to her face but, some women are just born to suck cock, and Kit falls into that category in the best possible way. I feel myself getting closer to the edge, about to blow my load down her throat. This girl knows what she's doing, and it hits me before I can stop it—

"Fuckin’ hell, I love you!" 

The words slip out without me even thinking, fuck, why the fuck did I say that? I hold my breath, waiting for her response. Hope I didn't just cock this up. 

She pulls back slightly, giving me a moment to catch my breath. But before I can protest, tell her I didn’t mean it or beg her not to stop, her fingers wrap around the base of my cock as her mouth bobs up and down faster. 

"Oh fuck," I groan again, unable to control myself as I thrust into her hand and mouth. "Fuck!...I'm gonna…"

But just when I think it can't get any better, Kit does something that seals my fate. She starts humming against me while still sucking and stroking. The vibration sends shockwaves through my body and pushes me over the edge, my balls tightening as she takes me deeper into her mouth. With one last deep thrust into her mouth, I come hard while moaning her name loudly. 

My orgasm slams into me, and I'm wracked by pleasure that just won't quit. Cumming harder than I have in ages. I’ve got a fistful of her hair, and I’m not exactly being gentle with all the tugging, I can’t help it, it's too bloody much. She swallows every last drop, drawing it out and milking me until there's nothing left. And I feel like a goddamn champion.

"Fucking hell, Kit," I gasp between breaths, my chest heaving as I can barely string together a thought now. 

I start getting a tad jumpy, as the sensitivity starts kicking in, but turns out Kit just fancied a few more licks before she's had her fill. 

The room goes dead quiet, and all I can hear is the sound of my own heavy breaths as my vision slowly sharpens again, a bit fuzzy at first, little fairy lights twinkling in my peripheral. When I can finally lift my head again, I catch Kit all laid out on her stomach with her head resting on my thigh, fingers dancing on my belly. She plants these teasing kisses along my hips, then looks up at me with a gaze like she's well chuffed with herself. 

My limbs feel like they're made of lead, but it doesn't stop me from grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her up to me. Rolling us over so she's under me, caging her on the bed, I dive into a slow and deep kiss, savoring every flavor and scheming my next moves. Her lips taste like me and it only makes my cock twitch with renewed interest.

"That was bleeding amazing," 

She just grins up at me, yeah, I reckon she knows just how damn good she is. My thumb brushes against her swollen lips. 

"Might just have to tie you to this bed," 

I don’t mean for it to come out like a growl but it does, hope she don’t think we're finished here, nah, not by a long shot.

She reaches her hands above her head to grab the bars on my headboard and gives her hips a little wiggle, tempting me something rotten. 

"Don't push your luck, love. Because I'll gladly tie you down and make you scream."

"Sure you will," She says with a smirk, bet she thinks I'm too knackered to do anything about that smart mouth of hers.

"Oh, you think you're clever," I growl on purpose this time and she seems to like it. I grab her hands and hold 'em above her head, giving her ear a nibble that makes her squirm. 

Thing is, she ain't the only one skilled with her mouth, I give a little thrust of my hips against hers and she shudders, trying to wriggle away from me. She might be good with that mouth, but she's the one pinned to the bed, innit? 

"Keep those hands right there," I shoot her a warning glance as she grips the metal bars, and she knows better than to try me. Doesn't stop that mouth of hers though, does it?

"Or what?"

"Or I'll bend you over my knee and spank that cheeky mouth right outta you, but maybe you’d like that." 

Her eyes go wide and full of excitement, fingers gripping tighter on the bars. She bites her lip, a tad nervy, and you can see it all over her face. I go in for another kiss, but just as she goes to meet me halfway, I duck my head and plant one on her neck trailing down to her collarbone.

She lets out this little sigh, a mix of bliss and surrender, but it's not doing it for me. I'm not after sugary sweet; I want that sexy girl who had me going mental all night in that tight skirt, tiny top and that sass of hers. She grips the bar a little tighter, as I move down her neck, leaving my mark like a warning for any other muppet thinking they can stake a claim.

She’s still sporting that skirt and tiny crop top, and I shake my head – no chance, love. Those’re coming off.

It's like peeling back a present, innit? So, I start pushing that little top up, inch by inch. She makes a simple black bra look dead sexy, practcally spilling out the top and that grin she’s wearing tells me she likes how I’m looking at her. Lucky me, I'm the bloke who gets to unwrap this surprise.

"All dolled up just for me, eh?" I let my eyes wander over her breasts, soaking in every detail. "You're gorgeous, babe, no doubt about it. But..." She's like a feast for the eyes, and I've got an urge to sample her. "I reckon you might be a tad overdressed, don't you think?"

A little push and that top and her bra are up her arms and all bunched up around her wrists, not handcuffs but it’ll do for the moment. Her tits are spilling out, so damn soft, sweet pink nipples all stiff and aching to be touched. They fit perfectly in my hands; just the right size for some good old fashioned fun. My thumb brushes over one of her nipples, stiff and hard under my touch. 

Knowing she's been starved of attention for eight long months, I make sure to give her an experience she won't forget. 

And let me tell ya, that's when the serenade kicks in, I lean down to taste one of those perky nipples, giving it a little tug between my teeth. I can hear the grip of her hands on the bars of my bed, that sounds of your skin against metal when you’re gripping it tightly and sure enough, she's holding on for dear life. Love seeing girls like this, love seeing her squirm each time I give her tits a suck or a squeeze. 

Needy; that's how she sounds—needy. But this, what I'm doing right now? It's only the starter. Gotta repay her for that blow job. 

"These are nice and sweet, love," I say, giving her a few parting kisses and a flick of my tongue. "But I'd wager, you taste even sweeter here." 

My hand slips between her legs again, and start rubbing up and down her soaked knickers. She groans, and her hips arch into my hand, she’s in the same state I left her in. Quivering under my touch, that confident facade crumbling as I lick my way down her stomach and across her hips.

Pushing her skirt up, she dressed to match, eh? I catch the edge of her knickers, and with a quick tug down her legs, I’m tossing them away. She's too lost for words, just gasping for air as I spread her legs wider.

I let out a low whistle, admiring the sight in front of me. She’s all stretched out on my bed, shaved pussy, sweat glistening on her skin, her craving for me obvious in the way she arches her back and offers herself up. Tits out, nipples hard, begging to be played with, but I'll save that for later.

A wicked thought crosses my mind and I smirk, "I was gonna tear this scrap off you but you know what? I reckon it looks good right here." I give her shirt a shove up and now its bunched around her waist. Every time she rocks that skirt in the future, it'll be a little reminder of this moment, leaving her wanting for more. 

But for now, it's just another memory to add to my spank bank when I'm flying solo at night.

She’s still hanging on tight, but I'm about to give her a real reason to cling on tight. I lean down and take a long lick from the bottom of her slit all the way up to where I know she's been dying for me ever since she walked through that door. Her mouth falls open and writhes under me, spreading her legs wider; like she forgot just how good it feels to have her pussy eaten. Eight long months since anyones tasted her eh? Well, that dry spell ends right now. 

"Oh, my God!" 

"I’m flattered love, but you can just call me Ben."

I grip her hips tightly and I start on in my treat with long, slow licks of my tongue nice and flat making sure I taste every inch of her and open-mouthed kisses driving her wild. She so sensitive to my touch, she tries to wiggle away when it gets a bit intense, but I keep her firmly in place, dead set on having my way until I'm satisfied; locking my arms around her thighs. 

Giving her nowhere to go, she’s gonna just lay there and take every flick of my tongue and kiss against her clit. Gotta make sure she's enjoying every second of this, 'cause once I make her come again, all bets are off. Her moans turn into a non-stop soundtrack of cursing and my name with a nice little chorus of begging.

"God! Fuck! Yes, Ben!" It's like music to my ears, spurring me on even more. Going down on a girl never ranked high on my list of favorite activities, but with Kit? Maybe I just needed the right girl. 

"Taste like bloody candy, you do." I growl, my voice thick with desire before diving back in for another round.

Every little jump and twist of her hips sends a surge of lust down south, my cock’s getting stiff again, not five minutes after she took the lot, that’s how much I want her. But I’m a patient bloke and I've got her curves mapped out. Figuring out realy quick what makes her moan and what sends her to cloud nine. Glancing up, her chest is rising and falling with pleasure, hands clutching onto the headboard like it's a lifeline. 

I was a bit of a mess at school, always getting an earful about my lack of focus. Load of bollocks, that. Truth is, I just didn't have the right drive. Now, with Kit right in front of me, every ounce of my attention is locked onto her. What's pushing me? The sound of her crying my name in pure bliss. Let me tell you, my focus is on point as my tongue and lips go all in on every inch of her, working that one sweet spot between her legs that sends her into a frenzy of writhing and moaning. I keep working on her clit, teasing and tantalizing with little flicks of my tongue until she's on the brink.

"Ben! Oh God! Please!" Her cries bounce around the room as she writhes on the bed, tears threatening to spill.

"You gonna come, love? Is that what you want?"

She nods like mad, "Yes! Please, Ben!"

Now how can I turn down a lovely request like that? 

Her body tenses, her legs shake, and she calls out my name, her voice getting softer, like a breathless murmur with each word. She’s teetering right there on the edge and I lock lip lips around that sweet little pearl of hers and give it a soft suckle while my tongue works overtime. The rooms full of her moans, breathy, light, and desperate, her legs go all tense and her chest heaves. And then it happens - the full-body shudder and her desperate cries, loud and raw as she moans my name again and again and swearing like a sailor. It’s a sight to drink in that’s for sure. Her orgasm hits harder than the last; she may have loved my fingers but she loves my mouth even more.

"Ben!! Yes, yes! Ben! Oh—fuck!" Her moans just might replace my favorite song.

It’s never been this hard to tear meself away from a girl, but I’m itching to keep her thrashing against my mouth, pushing the limits till she's practically begging me to stop. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Ain't painful, far from it, I love it. 

Then she jerks her hips up and away, reckon I might've pushed it a bit far again, but not keen on being pulled away when I'm enjoying meself. And this is the best bit, she's so sensitive, reckon a few more licks could send her flying again. But the whimpering and the wriggling tell me it's time to give her a breather, maybe another time; the night is still young.

Tonight's been one wild ride for us, two strangers meeting at bash, and now we're smack in the middle of the best sex of my life so far. Not many girls I've been with are keen on kissing after they’ve just had their cunts eaten, but Kit's shoving her tongue down my throat and dragging me on top, and I'm loving it. Like she can taste how good I made her feel. Seems like she's still up for more.

"Not knackered yet, love? Fancy another go?" I throw a tease her way, and she grins, swooping in for another kiss and I just chuckle. "Greedy thing, aren't you?" 

"Not greedy."

"Oh yeah?" I reply, keeping it matter-of-fact, knowing she won't push back. She grabs hold of my cock again, tightening her grip to drive her point home, and now it's my turn to shiver and let out a groan, I'm up for more if she is. 

"Well, maybe I'm a little greedy, but I’m not the only one." 

"Is that so? I dunno, I'm a bit knackered, love, might have to sweet-talk me a bit," 

Truth be told, you couldn't drag me out of this bed. I just shake my head as she plants kisses on my neck and treats me to a few smooth strokes before dropping the bomb, laying it on thick like she's trying to bring my fantasies to life.

"Ben… I want you, I need your cock inside me, please?" Oh, hell. No bloke could resist that, but she's not done yet. She keeps at it, punctuating each word with a kiss and a gentle touch, pulling all sorts of noises out of me. "Please, baby, please? Fuck me?" 

Baby. 

Don’t know what it is about her calling me that but well, it just does something. I'm dead certain this is what heaven feels like, but a quick pinch of my arm and a little jolt of pain tells me I'm still well and alive. 

"Anything you fancy, Kit," I wrap one of her legs around my hips. "You want me, yeah?" She nods, sweet as a nut, her tone might have been a tad pandering, but there’s no faking the want in her eyes. My fingers tease her a bit, she's dripping, and the little noises she makes are only making me harder. "You can 'ave me." 

With that, I slam hard, home, and her body tenses up against mine as I bottom out inside of her. It takes all my self-control not to just lose myself in this moment and pound into her like an animal.

All that build-up, all the teasing, it's bloody well worth it. She feels unbelievable, so damn tight after coming twice, and now I'm the one letting out noises as she clenches around me. I'm just trying to remember how to breathe, fighting the urge to finish right then and there. It's like walking a tightrope, one wrong move, and I'll topple over the edge.

I'm just frozen solid for a good minute, it's only been a few weeks since I had a shag, but Kit's been waiting for months. I'd be a proper tosser if I just dove in without giving her a moment to get used to me, but bloody hell, it's tough. She's like pure heaven, hot, tight, wet, fits me like a glove. Just gotta hang on for another minute, get ahold of meself 'cause once I get going, I won't be able to stop.

My heart's pounding like a damn drum solo, and I'm battling the shakes, trying not to twitch too much. Looking down at her, and she's a sight for sore eyes. Arching her back a bit, lips parted taking in deep breaths. She's doing a better job at breathing than I am; the deep rise and fall of her chest says it's not pain clutching her, but maybe she just needs a minute to process. Makes two of us.

"K–Kit. You alright there, love?" My voice breaks a bit, and my gut's doing somersaults, keen to kick off the show. "Look at me, Kit. Lemme see them eyes of yours." 

It takes a sec but her eyes flutter open. Something about the way she's looking at me freezes me up, and it's got nothing to do with the fact we're naked in bed together and I've got my cock buried in her. Could drown in those eyes, I swear. I’m starting to wonder if she's got me under some sorta spell 'cause her hips nudge me forward, and I groan in frustration, trying to keep myself from thrusting too wildly into her. 

"Alright?" I need her to be alright 'cause the way she's squeezing my cock is sheer torture.

She gives a nod, her hand tousling through my hair, sweeping it outta my face, and there's a grin tugging at her lips. Then, she leans up for a kiss wrapping her arms around my neck, slow and sweet, a total departure from the rough, fast, filthy ones we've been trading. It’s amazing.

Kit wraps her legs around my waist the rest of the way, pulling me in even deeper. My breath hitches as the new angle hits all the right spots inside of her.

"Oh fuck," I moan, burying my head in the crook of her neck. "You’re so fucking tight."

"I know," she purrs, nipping at my ear. "Now, move already, go slow."

Fun fact, mate, telling a bloke to take it slow can be a real test for us in the best way. Some blokes dig it hard and fast for a quick buzz, but a slow, deep rhythm? That just lets us savor every bit of ya. It's like quality over quantity; both get the job done, but one takes its sweet time. I'm a fan of both, nothing like a fast and furious rendezvous with your girl against a wall 'cause you swiped a few minutes when you shouldn't have. It’s a thrill. But this? Being starkers in bed after some heavy foreplay and a couple of orgasms? That's the kinda shag where you glimpse someone's soul, and I can see hers.

She nudges me again with those lanky legs of hers, and I start moving, easing out nice and slow letting her feel all of me. No point in stifling my moans; she can have 'em. Got a feeling this peaceful spell between us won't last long. I give a shaky breath, groaning as I slide back in, a tad quicker than planned, but Kit's tugging at me, showing she's game as she pulls me in for another kiss.

"Fuck, you feel good!" She breathes against my lips, and I can't help but grin like an idiot. No way I'm hiding that.

"Is that right? How about this, then?" I snap my hips sharply, and she lets out a moan, burying her head into the bed. Strokes the old ego, seeing her like this, lost in pleasure, caught up in the moment.

"Oh, God… That’s perfect! Fuck! D-Do it again," She pants, wriggling on my bed. I give her a smirk and repeat the move, teasing out slow until she whines, then thrusting sharp and earning another breathy moan. 

Slamming home again gets her bucking against me, and I pull her in flicking my tongue against her lips. I feel her tremble each time I pull out and push back in. She's loving every second of this slower pace, and don't get me wrong, I'm loving it too, but I'm itching to crank things up. 

"Go faster," she pants, sweetest words I've heard yet, and like the lady wants, I step it up. "Harder," Easy now, darling.

Now, we’re getting somewhere, we're making a racket in this room, and all you can hear is our heavy breathing and that sound of skin slapping on skin. Kit's got this delicate, breathy way of gasping for air. Now, don't get me wrong, missionary's a classic, love being able to see her face, give her a peck, watch her tits bounce when I thrust into her. But you know, variety's the spice of life, innit? This girl, she's like a mind-reading Jedi or something, kissing and sucking on my neck and unwrapping her legs from me.

"Ben?"

I just groan into her neck, had a good rhythm going and she chucked it out the window, least she’s keeping them kisses on my neck coming, still touching me all over.

"Do something for me?"

"Anything, darin’" The words tumbling out of my mouth without a second thought. I'm up for whatever it takes to get this party started again; every second I'm not inside her hurts.

"In front of the mirror." 

What? I snap to attention, her eyes are just dark, like she's checking if I'm game. But I reckon my reaction gives her the green light. She's just dropped a bombshell without even realizing it. I sit up quick, dragging her into a kiss.

"Fuck you wherever you want, just say the word."

"Edge of the bed," Don’t need to tell me twice.

I give her soft lips a quick, eager peck before sliding over to the bed's corner, where this madcap adventure all kicked off. Taking a sec to catch my breath, I check myself out in the mirror. My chest's still pounding with excitement, hair all over the place, and my cocks standing tall, eager and slick. I ain't one for vanity, but I know I'm looking pretty decent like this. But something's missing, ain't it? I don't have to wait long; she slinks up behind me, snug against my back as she plants kisses on my neck. 

Her arms wrap around me, one hand tangling in my hair—I ain’t never gonna trim if this is the treatment it gets. The other hand finds its way to my cock and the throbbing gets more intense, stroking it like a pro while her lips, and teeth set my skin ablaze. The mirror captures every moment, cranking up the heat.

“God, you look so good like this, Ben.” She purrs giving my ear a little nip. The feeling's lush, but it's even better watching her hands roam over my chest, lips on my neck, her hair cascading over me? Feels like I'm the star of some flick, and Kit's my leading lady.

It's ace, no doubt, and I'm digging it, but I'm gagging for more. 

"Kit, you gonna keep playin', or you gonna jump on my cock?"

She flashes me a naughty grin before giving me a few strokes, her tongue poking out to lick her lips. She lets out the kinda giggle that girls only use when they’re trying to get up all riled up before letting go of my hair and dropping to her knees. I swear, my heart might give out right here and now. I grip onto the edge of the bed for support but all I get are linens, got a feeling I might need it. Her hand reaches up to cup my balls, gently massaging them and I swallow hard.

“Oh, fuck,”

My eyes are wide as saucers for two reasons. One: it always gives a bloke a pause to see a girl kneeling in front of him, and two: I catch a peek of her in the mirror. She's still wearing that skirt, it’s barely covering her arse, and that little top is gone too, she must have chucked it, fine by me, she’s got great tits. Her hair is a tangled mess, falling over her bare back. Fuck, I’m wishing I had my phone, I’d love a picture of this.

She doesn't even give me a sec to say anything; straight down she goes, taking my cock in her mouth. Fucking mint. She's ramped up the intensity this time, and I might sound like a right pig, but the thought of her giving my cock a good suck after I've used it on her? Mate, it's fucking mint, especially with those moans she ain't bothering to stifle. I'm just staring at our reflection, her skirt barely hiding that lush arse, head bouncing in my lap. 

"Holy shit, Kit," 

And looking down, the view's just as nice, her eyes open and she's gazing up at me with those blue and green eyes, and it's somethin' else. Dazed as an idiot, while she works me over like I'm a blooming lollipop. Thank God I let Jeff talk me into that party, I owe him drinks for a month, maybe two.

"Kit, not that this ain't bangin', but," I tilt her head up, and she releases my cock with an exaggerated pop that cracks me up a bit. "You wanted me to fuck you in front of the mirror, yeah?"

She grins at me like she's just hit the jackpot. "You looked so good, I wanted another taste." I stifle a laugh; her banter's gonna have me in stitches if I don't keep us focused. "Thought you'd like the view."

"Damn right, I do," I hoist her onto my lap, "But, here's the deal. I've got this absolute stunner of a girl dripping wet on my lap, and she's already given me a proper seeing-to. If I'm gonna cum again, it's gonna be inside her. Now, what's the sitch, do I need a wrap?"

She shakes her head, "IUD." 

"Good fuckin’ girl," 

"Tell me how much you want me, Ben.”

Her slender hands grab a hold of my cock again, and she eases herself over it. I'm aching to feel her wrapped around me after all this toying and teasing we’ve been doing.

“Fuck, love, I want you so fucking bad, wanna fuck you till you can’t bleedin’ stand.” 

I snatch her legs, pulling her down onto me, and deliver a hard thrust upward – it's like a burst of fireworks. She goes a bit stiff for a moment, her arms wrapping around my neck again, pressing those perfect tits into my face. I can't resist having another taste, I get a bit lost in it actually but that’s fine, Kit’s already on top of things.

She’s a natural on top, and she knows it. She's controlling the pace, the angle, everything, and I'm just along for the ride. Because that’s the magic of this position, it ain’t about speed; it's about depth. As soon s I get my wits about me again, I'm going at it hard, hitting every spot, feeling her cunt tighten around my cock with each thrust. She's holding onto me like her life depends on it, her pleasure maybe. I've got a gorgeous girl on my lap, riding me, mouth full of tit, and the cherry on top? I can watch the whole show in the mirror, it's like watching a live porn, and it's hot as hell.

That skirt of hers – bet she won't put it on again without remembering how I made her come tonight. I bet she can't even glance at it without getting all hot and bothered.

I'm thrusting up, slamming her down, and she's holding on tight, like a proper doll in my arms. 

"You love this, don’t you?" I ask after a solid thrust and a playful nip, making her squeak and tighten her grip, so I give it another thrust. "Tell me, Kit, you love me fucking you deep, my cock buried in you, don’t you?"

"I fucking love it, Ben! God, you feel so fucking good!"

"That's right, ride me, babe," I love it when she's all into it, all for me. "You're my good girl, yeah?"

"I'm your good girl," Would've settled for a simple 'yes' or a bit of filth, but hearing her echo it back, sends a jolt through my cock, and with the racket we're causing, it won't be long before she's worn me out. 

"Promise, I'll be your good girl!" 

God. She promises, eh? Her voice, all breathy and full of need, shaking a bit like I'm propelling her straight into another orgasm, and that thought? Well, it just does something to a bloke, knowing you've got that power over a woman; your woman. I'll take this over flying, super strength or laser vision any day. I can feel her walls tightening around me, her nails digging into my back as she rides me harder, faster.

"You gonna come for me again? That's what? Three?" Can't keep the cheek and wit out of my voice if I tried, feels too damn good to know I'll have made this girl come three times in one night, and I might manage one more, could be close though. "How about you turn around and enjoy the show with me, yeah? Turn around so you can watch me fuck you."

I ease up on the pace, nudging her to get her legs steady. It takes a bit of back-and-forth, but like déjà vu, we're right back in the same spot, and damn, is it hot? Watching myself sink in and out of her while seeing every expression of pleasure on Kit's face is almost too much to handle.

But I don't want it to end just yet, I reach forward and grab onto Kit's hips, guiding her movements as she starts riding me again. It’s slightly different position and so it hits different and it’s incredible. With each thrust, I pull back a little before pushing in deep again – making sure to hit that spot each time.

It’s so fucking good, that's why I wrap a hand around her neck, making her look straight into the mirror while I start thrusting up again, I want her to see what I see. Fuck it’s a show, her eyes are closed one moment and then snap back open as I thrust into her again. Her tits bounce with each movement and goddamn they look so fucking nice.

"Look at how goddamn stunning you are, bouncin’ on my cock. You're ready for another one, aren't you?"

Kit just gives a little nod, like the whole situation's a bit much for her – and fair play, it probably is. But she's loving it, no doubt about that. "Still my good girl?"

Another nod, and I'm close enough to lean in, nipping at her ear. She shudders, and I start marking up her neck. Anyone dares to give her grief on it, they'll be dealing with me and my fists. She feels like she’s mine. My grip tightens around her, and I'm putting in the effort. I'm wound up so tight I could snap, legs burning from the workout. 

Hell, watching us both in the mirror, I can see why folks dig it. Don't know why I never gave this a go, but I'm proper pleased Kit suggested it. She's practically done, and I'm not far behind, but I'm a stubborn git, and if I can get her off one more time, you bet I will.

I can feel myself getting close, but I want to make sure Kit gets there first. I reach between our bodies and start rubbing her clit, matching the pace of her movements on top of me. The way she moans into our kiss sends shocks to my cock, fucking hell. She jumps when I hit that little sweet spot of hers and just start playing with her, I’m not stopping till she’s ragged and coming for me again. And I know just what gets her off now, a mix of little circles and gentle taps, but either way, she's losing this battle for sure.

"That's it, baby. Come for me again. Show me how good you can be." She just whimpers with each little touch.

"Feelin' that, Kit? Got you right here, don't I?"

I keep whispering as I release her lips and tilt her head so she can catch the whole scene again, an’ soak it up like I am. She just nods and moans, not much else she can do from where she's at, so it's a proper sight when she reaches up and starts touching her own tits, squeezing and tugging at them like she knows exactly what turns me on. And I can't tear my eyes away from her. I can feel my balls tightening and my cock getting even harder inside of Kit. She's so tight, so hot around me and it's driving me insane.

"Damn, you're a goddamned dream right now, love," I say a bit rougher than intended, but I'm so damn turned on I can't control how it comes out. "Gonna play with those tits while I fuck you and play with your clit, are you?" 

“Ben!” Ah, so she can speak, it’s a bit high pitched but that just means I’m doing it right. “God, Ben! I’m gonna cum again!”

“Damn right you are, you’re gonna come right here, all over my cock” 

She's a right mess, begging for me to send her over the edge. I reckon I'll sleep like the dead after tonight. Been a while since I've had more than one go with a bird like this, and I gotta say, it's bloody amazing. I’m so fucking close. But I reckon it'd be a proper send-off if I can get her to join me for the ride, so I double down. Getting a bit more forceful with my hand between her legs, giving that sweet spot nowhere to hide.

I give her neck a little squeeze, just a tease, and when I do, she squeezes me tighter than ever. 

"Look in that mirror and tell me, you're my good girl."

“I’m your bad girl,” 

There she is with that attitude again, couldn't resist a bit of cheek even when I'm fucking her senseless.

Alright, sweetheart, I’ll play along. 

“Bad girl, huh? If you're gonna be bad, I'll treat you like it.”

I can feel her tremble and tense up as I lean in for a kiss, slipping my tongue into her mouth while giving her pussy a few quick and fast spanks. And mate, that's the ticket. She practically screams into my mouth, and it's like a damn explosion as she comes again. It's fucking brilliant, and it doesn't take much to send me over the edge with her. I slam her down onto my cock with everything I've got, while thrusting up into her, and then bam, I'm coming hard. 

She’s strangling my cock, walls clamping down as I come and come, fucking hell. It's the best fuck I've had in ages. Every time I touch her, she jumps, squirms, and squeezes me, milking every last drop out of my cum. Bloody-fucking-hell, it's fantastic.

“–Fuck! –Fuck! –Fuck!” 

Aw, Hell, that's me, making a scene, and I can’t be arsed to care. But that’s definitely Kit all but screaming: ‘Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!’ 

I mean, who wouldn't? You'd have to be daft not to enjoy fucking Kit. She's amazing in bed.

Hell don't think I've ever busted that much before. Takes a solid minute for the aftershocks to ease off, and by then, I'm completely shattered. Looks like she's done too, my hand slows to a stop between her legs and I pull her back onto the bed with me in a sweaty heap. Her body’s trembling against mine, and I can't help but smile at the thought of how many times I made her cum. 

The room's full of our breathing, and it smells like sweat and sex. I'm in desperate need of a shower, and I reckon she might want one too, if she can even walk, that is. Wouldn’t mind a brew either.

"Alright, love?" 

She gives me a little giggle and plants a quick one on me, slipping her hand through my hair again. God, I love that. 

First time all night she's kissing me like I'm more than just a quick fuck, like I'm her bloke, and it's sweet. Haven't had a steady girl in my life for a while, forgot how nice it is to have someone to just kiss after the orgasms fade.

"Fuck, I needed that." 

Can't help but chuckle. That makes two of us, though I reckon she needed it more than I did.

"Don’t let it go to your head babe, but couldn't tell you the last time I went twice in one go." The smirk on her face says it's all going straight to her head, and hey, she's earned it.

"Too late." Cheeky minx.

"You gonna tell me your name, now?"

I almost forgot she never gave me a proper name. She’s got me so wrapped up that I’ve gotta know. She looks at me like she's lost in thought. Then, she just shrugs.

"Come on, babe, I've earned a real name at least. Did right by you, didn't I?"

"I mean, I guess so..." Now she's just teasing, so I sling an arm around her waist and tumble us around so she’s on her back again, my cock slipping out of her making us both shudder.

"You reckon, yeah?" I kiss her again. "Got you off with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock, didn’t I?" She moans as I pepper her neck with kisses. "How many lads made you come three times in one go, huh?" She shrugs, but I know she's just teasing. But what did I say? Don't mess about with me. 

"You've got my damn cum dripping out of you, and you're gonna tell me I haven't earned your real name? What've I gotta do for that? Need another one?"

Love seeing her eyes widen when I give her nipple a little suck. "Think I won't do it?" I'm knackered, sure, but I'm stubborn as hell, and I want her name. "Come on, darling, tell me."

She's putting up a fight, but when I start trailing kisses down her stomach, she goes all still and squirmy again. 

"I fucked you good, didn’t I?" I say, dipping my tongue into her belly button. Seems she's a bit ticklish. Good to know. I keep at it, giving her hips some attention now. She looks like she's calling my bluff, nah, not me. So I give her another lick, and she practically jumps.

"Ben, are you serious?"

I chuckle a bit and tease her with a slower lick, and she jumps again, but not as much.

"Could've had you wriggling after that first one, you were so damn sensitive" That look in her eyes she’s giving me tells me she knows good and well I’m right. I'll just let that little ‘what if’ simmer and do the graft for me. 

“Wouldn’t have taken much to see you come again, could give it another go… Maybe this time I don’t give you a break…”

"Most guys are in a rush to get a girl out of their bed, not beg for her name.” She’s right there but most girls don’t make me feel like I’m gonna blackout from coming, “I don’t usually tell my one night stands anything specific."

"So let me take you out," She’s got a deer in the headlights look now, like she’s not sure if I’m serious, but I am.

"Really? Just like that? You want a date?"

"What's wrong with that? Never met a bloke who fucked you senseless and then wanted to wine and dine you? I mean, sure, the order's a bit arse-about-face, but how about it?"

She seems a bit taken aback, like she thinks I'm crazy or she's never been asked out after a romp. She's smart, sexy, and a right laugh, not to mention the new placeholder for the best sex I’ve ever had. So why not?

"A date?"

"A proper one. Dinner, movie, whatever tickles your fancy. I'll even brave meeting your old man," I add, with a grin. Most dads like me, hell, I made it to my twenties without meeting the wrath of anyone’s pop.

"You'd meet my dad?"

I crawl up until I've got her backed against the headboard, and she's got nowhere to escape. 

"If it'll land me that date, I'm game."

"You are stubborn. Was it really that good?" Pull her into a kiss, kinda kiss that leaves you breathless, though we’re both already a bit short on that.

"Darlin', can't remember the last time a girl left me speechless or got me off more than once. You're lucky I don't tie you to the bed," 

She seems to be realizing the type of stubborn bloke she's dealing with as she eyes the headboard and shoots me a look.

She gives me the ‘come here’ finger, and I lean in for a slow kiss. "I hate the movies."

I flash her a grin. "What've you got against the cinema?"

"It's crap for having a conversation and you’re supposed to ask what I like–"

“-I know what you like,” She rolls her eyes at me but I can see a bit of blush. “Alright, no cinema. Good for other things, though," I say with a wink, and she smirks and bites that lip of hers again. 

As the seconds tick by I'm starting to think she's not keen on going out with me, and honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about that. I like this girl. 

"Kit,"

She lets out a sigh and pulls me into a kiss, tangling her hands in my hair. The sleepy haze starts to settle over me, and then I almost miss it. She says it so quietly.

"Cassandra."

"Cassandra," I repeat, gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl. "Was that so hard?"

"I'm stubborn too."

"I can see that.” I take her lips in a showstopping kiss, tongue dipping in to tase hers, maybe start some more mischief. “Come on, fancy a shower alone or want some company?"

Her smile is worth a million quid, and she gets up, pulling me along. "Maybe I should have some company just in case I stumble. I mean, I'm a bit wobbly on my feet."

"Looks like someone took good care of you," I say, noticing her slight unsteadiness. Without hesitation, I scoop her up in my arms, and she lets out a squeak but wraps her arms around my neck. I take us both to the shower. “Cassandra,” I like saying her name, makes her look different somehow. 

“Call me Love.”

Yikes! Guys, if you made it this far please let me know what you thought. When I tell you I was genuinely scared to post this here, I am 100% not kidding. And if you are an erotica wanderer and this story sounds familiar I will put your mind at ease now; this story is published on another website so if you see it on literotica, please don't panic it's me. Thanks again guys.

[minamill]

hopefully i'm not jinxing it, but at some point in this story/gp thing i'm going to need three members of a queer punk band for a brief apperance and maybe some mutuals would be open to making them? 👀

[cherisigloo]

my life sucks but it would be hell of a lot better if i knew how to play drums

[helianss]

the more you look at this picture the more you get surprised its so funny😭😭

[kairiscorner]

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

man... he's so annoying. and yet, so fucking dreamy.

summary: you were lauded as the only serious junior in the entire spider society. you did your work and loved doing it, you made no exceptions for any rules, not even for yourself. you loved order and civility, you fought hard in your universe to earn it, and you believed you deserved it here in the spider society and tried your hardest to uphold it. but when he showed up... you were gonna have a problem.

word count: 1,222 (crazy)

a/n: might be part 1 of something, or a oneshot, who knows !

you loved being a spider person, though of course, you'd never show it. you were looked up to by anyone who was anyone, everyone wanted to be like you. you upholded the law and ideals of society as a spider person, who'd've thought for your city to be civilized, all they needed was a spider-themed hero and they'd all bow down and listen?

it was because of your amazing abilities, tireless determination to serve and protect the people of your hometown that you were sought out by the spider society and became one of theirs. and you were the damn best at it. you found a new pleasure and hobby in beating up bad guys, being spotted over roofs of abandoned buildings, being pointed and gasped at by onlooker civilians, and saving the day as a friendly neighborhood spider person.

life was great like this, it followed one, linear path that everyone else did. it was the perfect pastime, the perfect job for you. you made a few friends and got along real well with jess and peter b, you had dibs on being jess' kid's mentor when it'd be born, and mayday absolutely loved you. you were peter b's go-to for a babysitter if he had to leave for a mission or go on a date night with mj. you were a trusted kid at the spider society, the adults had never met a kid as serious, responsible, and hard-working as you.

it was pure bliss, being part of the spider society.

until he showed up.

the moment he came in, you swore you heard a loud electric guitar strum reverberate throughout the halls. you felt the vibrations of it in every bone and muscle of your body, this guy couldn't have bothered you any worse. you groaned at the noise, asking others around you who that was. they shrugged, must've been some newbie, not that you cared, you just hoped they'd keep it down.

you cared for order and civility, and you found that in the spider society. despite there being some rogue ones and rebellious folks, you found yourself getting along with most of them. but you had a feeling that this newbie who made himself known through his flashy one note show might get on your nerves a little if he keeps that behavior consistent, but you digressed.

as you went over to the lobby to see what all the fuss was about, you soon heard another ear-piercing noise. it wasn't just one note that was playing now, it was a whole metal song. to make matters worse, some drummer girl joined him in, contributing to the noise.

"who the hell?" you asked yourself as you spotted a spiked spider man masked person with a black leather vest, buttons and pins adorning the lapels of it, with dark spider-doodled pants and long black boots with mismatched laces, yellow on the right and blue on the left. his mask had what appeared to be a runny look to it, the lenses of their mask ran down a little by the ends. their entire apparel screamed anarchy and chaos. and you loathed it.

"who's ready to overthrow an oppressive regime with me? an oppresive regime of boredom in this whole building!" the newbie's voice exclaimed. it was deep, yet smooth; it had a fluidity to it, almost as if he could say anything, and one would immediately listen, no questions asked. soon, everyone around you who was watching was buzzing as the guy played a loud metal song for all to hear. many were cheering for him and encouraging him to keep playing, but you soon noticed many of these people were on patrol duty. and many of them looked like they were more invested in this nutcase's impromptu performance over work, work that saves the multiverse, you thought as you reminded yourself.

"okay, people, this is cool and all, but we have work to do." you said as you tried to get the onlookers near you to listen to you, but it was for naught. none of them heard you over the incessant cheering, howling, and music in the air. you huffed as you shook your head, put your mask on, and swung over to the makeshift stage they had that was made of wooden crates and cardboard boxes laying around.

as the guy was strumming away on his electric guitar, showing no signs of giving out, you took the mic away. "okay, this was a good show and all, but we have work to do." you announced yet again, which earned the groaning and disappointment of a lot of people.

"yeah, yeah, groan as much as you want, that won't stop mr. o'hara from freaking out at us the minute he comes back and sees this whole... gathering." you say, trying to quell the audience's thirst for more excitement.

"well, aren't you a prissy one?" asked the newbie with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. you rolled your eyes. "what you did just hindered a whole lot of people from their responsibilities here, newbie." you told him in a stern voice as you frowned at him, expecting him to be mature about this if he was recruited as a spider man.

he laughed as he thanked the drummer girl for her performance as she was packing up to leave, and turned to look back at you with a smirk from underneath his mask. "you're real cute for that, upholding orders from higher-ups you so badly want to please. that's not being a spider person, though. more like being... an obedient little dog." he teased as he bent over a little to look you in the eye.

up close, he was much, much taller than you, much bigger in nearly ever aspect. you gulped a little, but your frown and angry expression remained. "say what you want, my judgement stands. i'm also more experienced than you here, so if you want to survive, you listen to me." you whispered as he leaned in closer to you, smirk widening.

he took off the mask, and you were surprised to see just how many piercings he had, you didn't even have any piercings for earrings at the bottom of your ears, yet he had... so many. he grinned at you as he ran a hand through his thick hair in wicks. "i think i can manage on my own, little doggy." he teased as he ruffled your hair and chuckled a low chuckle.

"i mean it though, it's cute. if you wanna be more than just a little dog for the higher-ups, though... you'll know where to find me." he said with a wink as he put the mask back on and swung away.

you were left alone now, thinking about who you just met. he was, of course, rebellious and disorderly, everything you weren't aspired never to become. you knew nothing good came out of a discordant lifestyle like his, no matter how little you knew of him, you knew one thing.

"man, he's so annoying..." you complained aloud as you took the mic and hopped off the makeshift stage, ready to clean it up before the adults got back. 'and yet, so... dreamy.'

oh dear, looks like he's gonna be quite the pain in the ass for you.

lmk if i should keep this going babes, i loved this idea sm, thank you to my friend on the dc server for the idea :DD

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @pixqlsin @k4tsu3 @nokkihy @fictarian @bivivivii

[banana-zim]

so with all these Dib with a guitar sketches going around... :) Zim definitely would be on drums (as a drummer, I would know this).

Reference/Inspo Credit: Doodlebags

[starscatteredsky]

is it ok to ask for an inbox check?/nf

inbox check!

its pretty long right now, but we're doing our best! its a little overwhelming but we're to help the kin masses! /silly

-mono

queued and ready to post! (in order of when they'll be posted, subject to slight changes as drafts are slotted into their places)

Tips for a burmese mountain dog

Stimboard/tips for TFP/TFA starscream

Tips for a ferret

Tips for Dave brubot/major player

Tips for dating colin the computer

Tips for pickles the drummer (metalocalypse)

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types of requests

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[newtonsheffield]

Little random but I would love to see a snippet of Lavender Haze Anthony reassuring Kate after she’s had Neddy. Cause let’s be honest most women’s bodies don’t bounce back to how they were before and I can imagine Kate being conscious of that because of the media.

Lavender Haze Anthony has such a trump card in the fact that he's driven so insane by the fact that Kate had his baby that he actually has to stop himself from being a sex pest, honestly.

Kate hated that she felt this way, really, she did.

She'd never considered herself to be a very vain person. She knew she was an attractive woman, or at least that a lot of people found her so but it wasn't something she spent a lot of time thinking about. She'd finished school the year she turned sixteen, completely anonymous it felt like and when she'd gone back after summer, her hair grown out a little, her skirt maybe a little shorter than it had been, and Rick Matthews had nearly broken his neck to stare at her when Mary had dropped her off outside. And for once, the boys weren't nudging one another to get a glance at Mary.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit." She'd heard him whisper, "When the fuck did she get those legs?! Dibs!"

She had gone out with him actually, three months later and he'd finished in his jeans when she kissed him and gotten so mortified he'd left her three streets away from her house and let her walk home while she shrugged it off.

And she hadn't really thought much about it, it wasn't as though she was going to change everything about herself just because men that were far too old to be staring at a teenage girl stared far too long. That was their problem, not hers and she fully believed that what she looked like was the least interesting thing about her.

She ignored clients who flexed their muscles like Tom Dorset, and personal trainer who fancied himself a drummer and chuckled with Sophie when they left, and if her boyfriends asked her to dress a certain way, or do something for them she brushed them off with an arched eyebrow and told them to go and fuck themselves instead.

But then there was Anthony.

Jesus Christ, Anthony.

She'd had good sex before Anthony, she really had, the kind that you still thought about long after you'd broken up but Anthony seemed to be on a different level entirely. It wasn't that what he did was anything extraordinary, though it was spectacular it was more the fact that every part of them was compatible. They knew where to push the other, where to ease up, when to nip and bite and grope and when to be soft and gentle and hold the other's gaze until it felt as though they were going to explode. It was much more about how he made her feel. How his eyes roaming over her made her feel like the most confident woman in the entire world (an area she'd never really been lacking). He let her wield power over him, who could have overpowered her so easily and even when he pressed her against the tiles in the shower and his hips snapped against her until they were both bruised: she was in charge. They both knew it.

She was comfortable, confident in his presence and in who she was. But then they'd had Edmund.

She loved Neddy, of course she did. Named for his father and hers with his chubby cheeks and little dimples and dark curly hair and the little furrow in his brow that Anthony had. She was in love with their tiny family. In love with Anthony as a Dad, in love with the baby they'd made together with nothing but love. And that, most of all was why she hated feeling like this.

She hated feeling as though her body didn't... fit anymore. Women's bodies changed during pregnancy, that's what everyone said: She knew that. But she hadn't thought about what she'd look like, even two months after she'd given birth. She hadn't thought about how her hips would be wider, and her thighs thicker and the extra weight that still clung to her stomach and the dark stretch markers that still sat on her skin, mingling with the ink.

She felt different, now, more self-conscious in a way she'd never been before and she couldn't stop staring in the mirror. Couldn't stop staring at Anthony and all the ways he hadn't changed since becoming a father. He was still the same man she'd met. His chest tightly muscled, his hair a little more flecked with grey in a way that didn't make him look anything other than sexy. And the worst part was, she knew that Anthony knew she was different.

She'd never been embarrassed about nudity. Never, not even when they first started dating, she'd wandered around his house in nothing but her underwear, she'd done it even when she was pregnant and Anthony had groaned and fallen to his knees in front of her. But now she couldn't bring herself to. She found herself shying away from Anthony who always wanted to sleep like a giant Teddy bear, wrapped completely around her, with his nose pressed into her neck.

Most nights now she pretended to be asleep when he came in from the shower with his hair still wet, the masculine scent of his soap clinging to him in a way hat made her ache for him. And she only ached more when he hummed gently and tucked the blankets up around her before he kissed her cheek. Love you, Babe.

She tried to distract him when his hands fell to her waist when he came in from work and met her in the kitchen, his eyes shining.

"Look what Neddy did today!"

She hated it. But eventually, he spent longer in the shower, his eyes slipped guiltily over her as he slipped into their ensuite and that only made her feel worse.

"How's things?"

Kate made a noncommittal noise staring at her sister and her fiancée across the table, waving her hand nonchalantly. "Same old same old. Cute husband, cute baby. Living the dream."

Edwina's eyes narrowed, assessing her before she clicked her tongue. "You and Anthony aren't having sex."

Kate started, trying to cover it with a clear of her throat, "well, I just pushed something the size of a watermelon out of my vagina: She's suffering. When you two have children: one of you will understand her pain!"

Edwina rolled her eyes, "That's not the problem. What's really going on? Do you think Anthony's not going to be into you since you had a baby? Because if he's said anything I'll-"

"No," Kate cut her off quickly, "He's been... really sweet, and he's a great Dad which is really hot it's just... I don't feel... sexy anymore. And I know that Anthony knows that and he feels weird and-"

"Can I just-?" Josie cut in awkwardly, surprising both of them, "This might not be my place but Kate, you're hot. This is totally normal: You had a fucking baby. You love your husband, and He loves you... honestly a disgusting amount. You don't have to do everything all at once just like... Do something that the two of you used to do together that was sexy and fun and just get back in touch with each other, slowly."

Kate blinked, uncertainty churning in her stomach but the longing was stronger. "I guess we could-"

"Woah!" Josie snapped, "we don't need to know what it is. Just... when you feel ready, reconnect with yourself and him."

Kate had been thinking about it for days, Josie's advice, the truth that had rung in her chest when she'd said it. She checked the baby monitor quickly, her chest feeling a little tight. Neddy was sleeping, his tiny brow furrowed as he slept and she made her choice.

She stood from the bed, feeling a little ridiculous to be so nervous when she hadn't even felt this nervous the very first time they'd had sex. But she supposed she hadn't been saying Hey, the doctor gave me the all clear, stick it in me! She'd think of something else. They'd start with showering together. That was always something they'd both craved.

She could hear the shower running, the steam filled the ensuite as she nudged the frosted glass door open, anxiety curling in her stomach and then her heart stopped.

Anthony was standing under the hot water, clearly visible with one hand supporting him on the glass. His eyes were clenched shut and his chest heaved as he bit back a moan, his hips bucking against his hand.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"

Anthony's eyes flew open as reeled back in horror, his mouth a ridiculous surprised O! as he slid to the floor. "I'm sorry! I wasn't wanking!"

They stared at one another in shock, something slightly ridiculous bubbling between them, and suddenly, Kate couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Honey, you obviously were."

Anthony groaned as he dragged himself off the floor, slicking his hair back in the water his chest rippling. "Okay, yes, I was."

"That's... why you've been disappearing in here all the time isn't it?"

He shot her a guilty look, "I just... I don't want to put any pressure on you. But apparently this is something of a kink for me."

Kate blinked at her husband, "... Wanking in the shower?"

Anthony chuckled, stepping out of the shower, leaving it running, leaning against the bathroom counter, unembarrassed in his nudity as water pooled around his feet. "No, I find it... unbearably sexy that we had a baby together and every time I look at you these days: I'm hard as fuck. But you just had a baby and I'm not going to be the arsehole that begs his wife for sex when she just did pretty much the most incredible thing for me."

Kate's mouth fell open, fumbling for the words. "I've... been... not really feeling like myself since Neddy- No, I'm totally happy and in love with our family," Kate said quickly as Anthony's face fell into concern, reaching for her. "I just... I don't know, my body feels awkward in a way it didn't before and I feel so stupid because I love Neddy but I just feel different and I don't know how to connect with you like this."

Anthony let out a soft hum, tucking her hair behind her ear, his eyes serious, "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Even more so now. You had a baby and that's beautiful. I love every single change to your body, everything because you made our family. That's incredible to me. I love you, so much I can't breathe and nothing could ever change that. You're everything to me and yeah you're sexy as hell, Babe."

She relaxed against his chest, tears pricking at her eyes, "I love you."

"Love you too. Always."

Kate sighed, confidence sinking into her bones, "You're really into the Mum thing hey?"

Anthony moaned, "Yes. Yes I am."

Kate stepped back tugging her shirt over his head, letting her pyjama shorts slide down her legs, heat coiling in her stomach as Anthony's eyes roamed hungrily over her as she held out her hand for his. "Well, it'd be rude of me not to give you a little inspiration while you finish then."

And she tugged him back under the water.

[sunflowergirl522]

Fangirl 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin has an album release party.

Word Count: 3061

A/N: Listen I know Dave Grohl wasn’t the og drummer for Nirvana but I love him so he is in this fic okay? Okay.

Part One

Eddie Masterlist

It’s been three months since you and Eddie met and since then the two of you have gotten extremely close. He takes you to every show they have and you sit in for most practices.The rest of the guys were completely psyched to meet you, especially when you knew all of their names from being a fan, normally the fans they meet only remember Eddie's. You spend a lot of your free time together too even if that’s you reading and Eddie playing his guitar to learn a new song or create a new one. When he graduated last month you were the loudest person in the auditorium causing a scene for him because everyone needs to know how proud of him you are, Wayne really appreciated that.

Dustin has become such a nuisance since finding out how much time you spend together. He refuses to leave either one of you alone about when you’re going to get together, making teasing remarks when you’re all together hanging out and straight up asking you about it when it’s just you and him. You know he’s doing the same thing to Eddie, you laugh about it together in private, the two of you secretly wishing his teasing would come true. Because even though that first day the two of you met he said taking you to the concert the next day was a date, neither of you had actually acted like it was.

And since you gave Eddie the suggestion to put posters up around colleges for Corroded Coffin shows and have them places that minors could go, the band has gained a decent amount of traction. They have a bunch of fans now and after being asked by multiple people they started selling merch again. Eddie always makes sure that you get first dibs on each new piece they come out with since you’re his biggest fan. They’ve even gotten signed by a small record label and have an album coming out tomorrow.

You stand from your crouched position in front of your movies as a knock sounds on your door. You’re shocked when you see Nancy and Robin on the other side. The only person you were expecting today was Eddie.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re picking your clothes for the release party tomorrow because your fashion sense is shit.” Robin brushes past you leading the way to your room while Nancy speaks. They had decided that they had enough of the two of you dancing around your feelings for the other and that they’d finally get a plan together. Step one was to make sure you looked hot at the release party of Corroded Coffins album.

“What? My fashion sense isn’t that bad.” Nancy and Robin look at you clad in sweatpants and a shirt that you obviously stole from Eddie before sharing a look with each other. 

“Okay fine so it’s not shit, that may have been too harsh Nance.” Robin quickly says to appease you and sends Nancy a look to tell her to play along. She then moves to your closet while you sit on the edge of your bed. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow Y/n/n?”

“Just a pair of jeans and my Kiss shirt. And probably a jacket.” You nod your head towards the clothes you left sitting out on the desk.

“Is it your cropped Kiss shirt at least?” Nancy starts rummaging through your dresser drawers, you just nod. “That’s something at least. Where are all of your skirts?”

“They’re all in here it seems.” Robin leans back from your closet to look at Nancy who moves to stand next to her.

“Are you guys gonna be here long? Eddie should be on his way soon. I guess you guys could stay for movie night too though if you wanted.”

“Eddie’s coming over?”

“Well yeah, it’s movie night.” It comes out like everyone should know that by now when really how would they if it’s always just you and Eddie.

“Right, how could we forget?” Robin nudges Nancy and you catch the look she sends her making you suspect that they might be up to something.

“What are you two scheming?”

“Nothing, we’ll be back before the party tomorrow to get you ready.” You follow them out of your room just as the front door opens.

“Pizza has arrived Sweetheart! Oh, hey guys what are you doing here? You staying for movie night because I’m not sure there’s enough pizza for four of us.”

“We were just leaving Eds. See you tomorrow Y/n!” They both rush out talking to each other leaving you and Eddie alone in your home while they head next door to talk to Dustin about step two.

“What was that about?” His face scrunches up in confusion for why his friends left in such a hurry.

“Something about dressing me for the party tomorrow. I think they’re plotting something.” You shrug, taking the box from him and heading into the living room. “Do you wanna pick the movies while I make some popcorn?”

“No!” Eddie’s quick to answer knowing the catastrophe that will ensue if you make popcorn. “Last time you made popcorn you burnt it so bad the kitchen smelled like it for a week. I’ll make it, you grab some movies. I’ll watch whatever you want.”

“Even if I pick Grease again?”

“Especially if you pick Grease again!” He yells from your kitchen causing you to laugh. The first time you picked it he had complained without having seen it before. But now on a rare occasion he’d pick it.

The two of you start the night with The Thing and The Goonies quoting the films as you eat and try to toss popcorn into each other's mouths. Once the pizza is gone and Eddie makes another bag of popcorn you finally put Grease in. And there in the middle of the night in your living room the two of you jump around singing along to it and acting out parts of the movie together.

Halfway through Clue, which you put on next, you fall asleep head resting on Eddie’s shoulder and he’s quick to follow you.

Robin and Nancy find the two of you curled up on the couch together the next morning the tv screen blue from the movie ending.

“Are you sure they’re not already together and just messing with us?” 

“I’m sure. They would definitely be all over each other on a normal basis if they were together.”

“Gross Nance.”

“What? It’s true. Now which one of us is gonna wake them up?” Robin sighs already knowing it’s gonna be her.

“Alright love birds! Rise and shine!” She stomps over to the couch and rips the blanket off of the two of you as loud as she can. The last thing she wants is to end up shoving you off the couch again. 

“Robin? What are you doing here?” Your voice is full of sleep and you rub at your eyes to help wake yourself up. Eddie’s arms around you tighten before loosening so he can sit up.

“What time is it?”

“It’s like close to nine, maybe eight forty. Don’t you have things you have to do with the band?”

“Shit, yeah I do.” He climbs off the couch careful not to disturb you too much and crouches in front of you smiling to himself at how you’re already trying to go back to sleep. “I’ll be back later to pick you up Sweetheart.” 

“Mm, see you then Eds.” He runs a hand through your hair, kisses the top of your head, and stands to go nodding to Robin and Nancy as he heads out.

“Thanks for the wake up call girls.”

“Y/n, come on you gotta get up. We have to find your outfit for tonight.”

“Okay you guys do that, I’ll sleep.” Robin and Nancy look at each other before grabbing your arms and pulling you up. “Come on guys it’s early can’t you just give me one more hour. If you don’t let me sleep I’ll be exhausted tonight.”

“Nope, we brought coffee. You can drink it once we’re in your room.” You groan at Nancy’s words but accept the fact that you won’t be sleeping anymore.

“Why are you guys here so early anyway? The party isn’t until seven.”

“Yeah well you need to drink this,” Robin hands you a cup of hot coffee as you sit on your bed, “and we need to meticulously pick out your clothes.”

“Right and then you need to shower and get dressed.”

“Then I’ll go get us some food or something. And after we eat Nance will do your hair and makeup.”

“I don’t see how that will take ten hours or why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. But fine go at it, find my clothes for tonight I’ll sit here with my coffee.”

By the time you’re done drinking it it’s been an hour and a half and they’re still arguing over what you should wear. There’s clothes on your floor in two piles, a maybe and a definitely not pile. Your two friends can’t seem to agree on anything for the life of them and you decide that you could probably sneak in a twenty minute nap. Just as your eyes close and you start to doze off Robin hits your foot to get your attention.

“What do you think Y/n, which outfit do you wanna wear?” Nancy and Robin are both holding up different clothing. Nancy a short black dress you had forgotten existed and Robin one of your tighter skirts and a blank tank top. “You’d wear a jean jacket with either fit.” 

You sigh and get up walking over to them. You grab your Kiss shirt you originally planned on wearing on the way over. Their faces drop as you walk past them to the closet where they still haven’t pulled out your favorite jean skirt.

“Here, does this work for you guys? The Kiss shirt is non negotiable, Eddie and I are supposed to be matching.”

“Maybe we were too quick to judge your fashion sense. Now go shower while we pick your shoes out.” Nancy shoves you out of the room before you can argue otherwise. 

Admittedly you start to doze off after the warm water starts to steam up your bathroom. It’s possible you took a five minute standing power nap. You had only gotten maybe five hours of sleep before they came over. You’d feel bad for Eddie for having to actually do stuff today but he’s used to not sleeping much. The only times he really does sleep is when he stays over your place or vice versa.

By the time you’re dressed and you’ve all eaten the takeout Robin went out to get it’s almost one. You’re definitely more awake than before thanks to the coffee Nancy keeps pumping into your system. You’re still arguing about how you don’t need them to do your hair or makeup though.

“Definitely sexy disheveled, I’ve been rocking out all day, hair.” Nancy hums in response to Robin as they discuss while you’re stuck in your desk chair.

“You want messy hair? You could’ve had me nap for like thirty minutes and then just run your fingers through it to fix it up a bit.”

“Nope, now stay still so I can do this.” Nancy teases and pulls at your hair for the next twenty minutes while Robin keeps you entertained by telling you about how Steve got gum stuck in his hair and when she offered to cut it out he threw a fit.

“Can we skip the make up? I’ve had enough of feeling like a doll for the two of you to play with today.” You hated when your mom did this to you growing up and you hate that your friends have been doing it all day. “Besides, don't you guys have to go get ready or help Steve with his hair or something?”

“She has a point Nance, I did tell Steve I’d help him once I was ready.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll see you later Y/n.”

“Yeah, bye guys thanks for your help.” You wave to them before shutting your front door. You lean your back against it and slide down sighing. Today has been such a long day already.

Dustin comes over a little after six since Eddie’s picking him up too. He finds you laying on the couch with a book when he walks through the door.

“Hey Dusty, how’s your day been?”

“Good, what about yours?” He sits next to you after you straighten up.

“It was alright.” You shrug. “Nancy and Robin were over playing dress up like all day.” Dustin cringes a little bit at your words, he told them not to do that part of the plan and that you’d hate it.

“Oh? Where are they now?”

“Probably getting ready, I kicked them out a few hours ago. How’d you sleep last night?”

“Good, I stayed up playing video games but then I slept in this morning. Why?”

“You’re in charge of keeping me awake tonight. Eddie and I were up really late last night and then they showed up so goddamn early, I barely got any sleep.” You’ve never been so jealous of your friend before.

“Why didn’t you nap after sending them home?”

“Nancy pumped me full of coffee but I’m sure I’ll crash halfway through the party.”

“Alright, you can count on me.” Dustin knows almost better than anyone how you need sleep to be able to function. He only had to be the one to wake you up for school till you graduated. 

“You wanna play a game or something?”

When Eddie enters your house he’s met with yours and Dustin's laughter and his smile gets bigger. 

“Dustin come on, you want a snack you gotta come get it.”

“I can’t get over there! Just toss me something.” Eddie pauses in the doorway of your dining room where Dustin’s standing on a chair in the corner and he can see your head peeking around the doorway to the kitchen. You gasp when you see him.

“Looks like a lava monster has appeared Dusty.” He knows you’re playing the floor is lava immediately. It’s something you and Dustin have played since you were kids and even though you’re older now Eddie still walks in on the two of you playing it a lot.

He starts to make gurgled groaning noises to play along and slowly starts to make his way to where you are. You let out a small scream when you see him coming closer to you and start moving on the kitchen counters to get to the other doorway.

“Too slow.” Eddie's deep grumbled voice greets your ears right before he grabs you and pulls you off of the counter.

“You moved too fast!” You laugh leaving your arms around his neck while resting your forehead against his chest.

“Are you guys ready to head out?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

During the beginning of the party you stay hanging around the boys and your friends but after having a couple drinks you’re quick to become friendly with one of the other bands that the record label invited. You had gone off to get another drink when you started getting close to their drummer. You stay by the bar and chat with him while Eddie stands against the wall with his arms crossed in his group pouting.

“You good man?” Steve asks as he notices the annoyed look on his friend's face as he stares at the two of you.

“They don’t even have that good of music.” He’s met the members of Nirvana a few times as Corroded Coffin went into the studio to make the album. They were still writing their first album.

“Initiate phase two.” Robin nudges Dustin as she overhears Eddie being jealous. He rolls his eyes but makes his way over to his friend regardless.

“They seem to be getting pretty close, I wonder if he’ll be her new boyfriend.” Eddie chokes on his drink at Dustin’s words.

“Boyfriend? No way, uh uh. She told me drummers aren’t her thing. No offense Gareth.”

“None taken man, she’s your girl.” His own drummer shrugs and goes back to talking to a fan.

“Hate to break it to you Eddie but I think anyone who can play an instrument is her type.”

“It doesn’t matter she’s my girl.” His friend's words had filled him with confidence because yeah you are his girl. He’s not about to let some nobody take that away from him.

“Does she know that?” Eddie gulps and watches as you laugh at something he said.

“I’ll be back Dustin.”

“Oh hey Eddie.” You greet your best friend as he stops beside you swinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Hey Sweetheart.” 

“This is Dave, he’s in a band.”

“We’ve met darlin’.” He squeezes you against him doing what he can to show the man in front of him that you’re his.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Good, you care if I steal her away for a bit?”

“Go for it.” Eddie nods at him in thanks and pulls you towards a secluded part of the venue.

“What is it Eds?”

“Thought you didn’t like drummers Sweetheart?” He would’ve just asked you out if it weren’t for his nerves acting up. You understood what this was though from how possessive he just seemed to be.

“I do but I’m more into guitarists and lead singers with curly hairy and pretty brown eyes.” You smile up at him while stepping closer to him, holding onto his jacket.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm, in fact there’s a specific one I have my eye on. I think he’s gonna make it big.”

“You think so?” He leans his head down closer to you while his hands go to your waist to pull you closer.

“I know so.”

“Well I think if he makes it big he’ll be taking his number one fan with him.”

“He better.” And with that you reach up for his face to connect your lips.

“Mission successful.” Nancy and Robin high five as they watch the two of you come together.

Eddie Taglist:@sadbitchfangirl​​ @notbeforelong​​​ @munsonswhore86​​ @katsukis1wife​​ @violet-19999​​ @navs-bhat​​ @emotionaldreamer​​ ​ @thatsamegirl​​ @fromasgardandback​​ @rockchickrebel​​ @yourdailymemedelivery​​ @magicalchocolatecheesecake​​ @watercolorskyy​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @brattypeony​​​ @fangirling-4-ever​​ @angelina0191​​ @gaysludge​​ @audhd-dragonaut​​ ​​ ​@eddiethesexy​ @mazerunnerrose​​ @tvserie-s-world​​ @reddisteddie​​ @redgetawaycar​ @eddies-lover​​ @alexis6699​

Everything Taglist: @munsonsmuse​ @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx​ @practicalghost​ 

[princematcha]

(till i) run with you

bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

contains: rdr gets called ‘girl’ once, no real gendered terms or pronouns other than that, rdr does wear a dress, mostly sfw save for some cussing and nsfw related jokes, drug mentions (mary wanna) and alcohol mentions(and usage??), everyone’s bi including rdr, rdr is in grad school and bkg has graduated, not edited 

a/n: sorry i listened to too many 60′s and 70′s songs and started thinking abt a band au, let’s say xmen days of future past au because i wanted to keep mina pink

wc: 2369 words

Smoke billows out of your mouth as you stare off toward the pretty girl on the drums. Big pink curls held back by a black and white gingham hair band, hazy spotlight shining on her giving a halo. Sweat drips down the side of her forehead when she hits the hi-hat, you can see her arms flexing through her loose bell sleeves from across the bar.

She spins a drumstick on one of her pink knuckles, yellow irises flashing up to you with a wink. Normally you’d feel a touch embarrassed to get caught staring. You recognize most of the group from campus, anyone’s eye would get attracted to something nice to look at in class. Quickly looking away if any of them accidentally looked in your direction. But tonight you ash your joint in the tray on the tacky bartop next to you, smiling at her. You’ll have to thank Camie for the smoke-flavored courage.

Camie dances closer to the stage, her silk green slip dress swaying and rising along with her arms. A tactical, well-thought-out move. She told you she was trying to take one of the band members home tonight, “any one of ‘em will do, if I can get more though…” she winked before you left her dorm earlier. You think she probably has the blond guy on keys in her pocket. You should probably call dibs before she gets the girl too. 

As the orange embers creep closer to your fingers, you put out the roach and go back to watching the band. Looking at the stage is like peering through calcium-stained glass, a warm combination of smoke and the old spotlights from the theatre next door makes the whole room hot. 

The redhead looks like he’s putting his whole soul into the guitar, dark eyebrows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. His sweat-soaked white button-up does nothing to hide the finely cut body beneath it. The greek god of a man, some textbook you read last week probably contained a sculpture resembling this holy display. Suspenders straining over his broad shoulders. Is it legal for an entire group to be this foxy?

Camie’s boy hasn’t stopped making eyes at her ever since she grooved her way to the front. A real pretty boy, you could see your hands running through his golden hair, see if that black zig-zag over the side was natural. You’ll see if Camie’s in a sharing mood tonight. Though you’re not sure if you are, you sure do love the drums.

Your eyes trail behind the greek god and land on the bass player. You’re not sure how you missed him, though the sticky sweet of Gimlet in your throat answers that for you. Bright, deep red eyes burn in your direction. Is he looking at you? Nah, you glance towards the top shelf bourbon and whiskey behind you, sweaty man probably wants a stiff one. 

And it might be the gin speaking for you, but it almost looked like he smirked when you met his eye. With the mean look and scrunched bridge, he also could’ve had an itchy nose.

Sweaty, but still– pretty. You didn’t think you could say pretty so many times in a song, but tonight’s full of firsts. Big calloused hands pluck at the strings of the bass, muscles flexing with every move. You’ve never seen a man look so beautiful in a tight orange sweater-tee, showing off a slim waist tapered into black slacks. 

Pink hair winked at you first though, and you’re a sucker for a drummer. 

(Unless there’s a compelling offer.)

When their set is over, Camie is quick to lay game down hard and sweet on the pretty boy from the keys. Denki, she purred to you as she passed, her hand squeezing your thigh before leading him to the end of the bar. Denki’s eyes glued to her the whole way down. 

You watch as the girl heaves a large case with ease on top of one of the speakers, deciding now is a good chance to talk her up.

“What are ya drinkin?”

The sudden gruff voice next to your ear makes you jump, slipping straight off of the bar stool. You look to the side and the bassist is sitting on the rickety, rust-colored stool next to yours. And he dwarfs the seat in a way that makes it look a bit too small for him. It’s much darker on this side of the venue, not to mention he looked much smaller on that stage. Almost intimidating when he’s right in front of you.

He leans towards you, eyes like a lion circling- side of his mouth twitching when you move your head away from him but your feet force you to stand your ground, “Know what you’re smokin,” he chuckles, low and rumbly, “Good grass from what I can tell.”

You scoot back onto your stool, looking for any sense of composing yourself even as you can feel him picking you apart in his mind. You smile and hold his eye contact as you grab your glass, wet from condensation, and swallow the rest of the drink. “Nothing anymore,” you remark. You slip some green under the cup and turn back around to see if you can chase, but something is pinching the back of your white dress. 

You squint at him, “Let go, bass boy.”

He turns his head to the side, “Bakugou.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let go, Bakugou.” He says.

The name Bakugou does something for you. What was it? The disk jockey places a new record on the player as your brain flickers through the files that hold Bakugou.

He looks you up and down with little decorum as your thoughts stall, grinning when recognition snaps into place in your eyes.

First year of uni. Teacher’s assistant that everyone had a crush on. Mean as all hell, but a gift straight from God’s ass as a tutor.

The first time you got something below a B in your statistics course, you stared at his beat-up loafers while asking what days he has free TA hours because you were terrified to look him in the eyes. 

You turn to him fully and he releases you, waiting to see how you respond. 

“Bakugou?” You stare at him and he flicks his gaze over your face, “What the fuck?”

It’s been almost five years— still the hot TA in your mind though. Sitting in study rooms while he nudged you for the next question and you steeling your will to pretend he wasn’t the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. That’s fresh in your mind as well. Still true. 

God, he’s fuckin fit. 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” 

You move to snap at him, but falter when he takes your glass and tilts his head back to take one of the ice cubes. Watching as he swirls it over his tongue, then crunches it in his molars. 

“Ah,” Bakugou grunts, “Look who’s drinking hard spirits like a big girl.”

You find yourself sitting on the stool before you know it. 

(You’re too focused on the bartender stirring your drink with precision to see the drummer walk by with a wink to Bakugou and a brunette on her arm. He’s blushing when you glance back at him.)

You laugh as you press your temple to your palm, elbow sticking to the counter, almost empty drink in your hand. You don’t remember Bakugou being quite the conversationalist, but you have no complaints now. 

“How did you even recognize me?” You gesture to yourself, ice cubes swirling in the glass, “And then why would you come over, I don’t think I was that interesting to tutor— unless I was your worst student. Don’t answer that.”

He snorts at that, grabbing your drink out of your hand and placing it back on the wood, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Bakugou nods to the now empty stage, “And you weren't my worst, fuckin idiot on keys was hell on wheels to teach.”

You snicker and point loosely to distant corners of the bar, “I swear some other alums you tutored were here too.” 

You look over at him again, but he’s already facing you. Eyes on yours, but not in that burning, fiery way like earlier. It’s just warm now, something to swirl and get lost in. You find yourself leaning towards him but you swear it’s not because of him. You’re just a little tipsy, you think. Bakugou presses towards you as well, at the same slow drifting pace of the music. 

You stop when his knee hits the plastic leather of your stool, his figure nearly looming over yours. 

“Maybe I came over-”

“Because I never gave you back that watch?”

“—because someone wouldn’t stop eyefucking my band.”

You fling back like a rubber band when he whispers, spine straight as a rod. He smiles at your expression, a mean glint in his eye. 

“I absolutely was not.”

“Really?” He asks. You were never much of a liar. 

But there’s no point in not trying. “Really.” 

“So you weren’t hitting on Mina?” You stare at him so he tries again, “My drummer.”

You blink at him for a second before turning around and taking in the people you could see around the place, “Oh my god the drummer.”

He made you lose the drummer. Bakugou cackles like a hyena at your despair. 

(He buys you a basket of fries at the diner next door as an apology. Though he does eat half of them which lessened the sentiment in your opinion.)

You stare at the concrete of the paved paths weaving through the campus as you and Bakugou walk side by side back to the dorms. It’s quiet and shiny with early morning dew as you make your way back. 

He told you that he was walking you back to the dorms while you were hopping down the steps of the diner. You had no real complaints, you had a feeling that you might’ve woken up next to the university mascot’s statue if he didn’t accompany you. 

Though now you’re not sure how to feel. The warmth radiating off of your cheeks and the man next to you makes you feel like you just finished a nice date. But that wasn’t a date. That was just- That was-

It was two old fri- Hm. Acquaintances? Associates? Teacher and student? That one makes you feel off. Teacher’s assistant and pal. You cringe. Pal?

Rattling off different ways in your head to define your relationship with Bakugou, you don’t notice him slowing down near your dorm building. He clears his throat when you’re a few feet ahead of him. 

“Oh!” You turn. 

You stare at him as he stands under the streetlamp in front of the dorms. The background seems to crumble away the longer you take him in. The soft light blond of his hair looks heavenly at this time between night and day. Cold air nipping at his cheeks. He looks heavenly in this time between night and day. 

You’re not bold or sober enough to invite him up. 

So you guess this is goodbye for now. 

“So-”

“Breakfast tomorrow.” Bakugou pushes the words out of his mouth like they are boiling on his tongue. 

“What?” You rub your eyes to see if that will help you hear words that have already been said. 

“Hell. What day is it now? Today? Tomorrow? I don’t fuckin know when. As soon as possible.”

You’re not sure but you love whatever day today is.  

“I just,” you watch as he rocks from foot to foot, hands in his pockets. You never thought you’d see a nervous Bakugou. “It’s been a while and I-” He starts walking over and stops right in front of you. You’re too busy taking in the sight to even think of moving. “I just gotta see you again. If you’re okay with that. If you want.”

Something roils over in your stomach mixed with confusion. He’s gotta see you again?

If you were sober, you’d see the precious, delicate moment in your hands. A version of Bakugou you only ever got glimpses of when nights got a little too late in the library, when he came over to your dorm and you made him his favorite tea, keeping company and telling stories from your classes while he graded assignments. If you were sober you’d see the glimpse become a moment, enveloping the man as he is. 

But you aren’t. 

“Are you sweet on me?” You crinkle your nose and wag a finger at him. 

Bakugou is perplexed, with a hint of bewilderment. “Am I sweet on you? Are you- What! What else would I- A whole year of- How did you lose more of that brain the longer you were in school?”

You were too lost in how he interrupted himself several times, “What?”

“Yes,” He grits out, “I am.” Bakugou turns you around and starts pushing you toward your dormitory’s front door. 

“And I am going to be here in the morning to remind you because you’re drunk. And you’re not gonna remember a goddamn word I say, so listen to me when I say:”

He stops you abruptly and spins you around, hands warm on your shoulders, “If you say yes, I am taking you out and you’re going to fall the fuck in love with me and I am going to occupy all the empty spaces in your mind to make up for the years you put me through.”

You blink up at him. 

Bakugou grabs the key ring out of your hands, reaches behind you, opens the door, and walks you backwards inside. Placing the key ring back into your hand, he walks back to the door and gives you one look before he closes it, “It’s only fair.”

(He was right and you did wake up with very little memory of the night before. Breakfast with him was amazing though, good god the man can cook. So sweet of him to offer. You spilt hot coffee on your lap when he asked you to get dinner with him while he washed the dishes. You said yes.)

[listerbirdloml]

ghost

(for the iwbft mini story thing)

ask and you shall receive. i'm well aware this is super unrealistic but BOOO DIDNT ASK BOOO I'LL WRITE WHAT I WANT

again, no real content warning other than silliness, strong language, and rushed writing. established bicci but its like two lines. set 2/3 years after events of IWBFT. 1K words.

Ghost

"It's definitely haunted."

When Cecily first mentioned a change in their accommodation during their first tour in America, Jimmy's traitor of a brain instantly began concocting worst-case scenarios. They were going to have to camp in the American wilderness with the bears, the cougars, and the coyotes. They were going to have to ask for shelter at a lonely homestead, as though they were simple gold prospectors in the 1800s seeking shelter. They were going to have to spend another night on that godforsaken tour bus with Rowans loud snoring and Listers incessant need to initiate games of “I spy” every three seconds.

His bandmates had tried reassuring him. There was no way Cecily would let them camp in the middle of the United States, and there was no way she would let them shack up with some random family. No, what was more likely was a change in hotel. Maybe even a switch of rooms. Maybe they’d have to share.

Rowan had been right, apparently. There was a change in hotel. And now, the creators of not two but three golden albums had to spend the night in a most definitely haunted hotel, 50 miles from the nearest town.

"It's not haunted.” Two heads turned to Lister as he spoke up. They had been standing in a row on the pavement, all three of them staring up at the building as though they were getting the perfect promo shot for an indie horror film. Lister bushed his sunglasses off of his nose and rested them on top of his head. There were little red indents where they had originally sat. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You don't feel anything?” Rowan had an eyebrow raised, his voice thick with scepticism. “And pray tell, what would you feel if it was haunted?”

“Oh easy.” Lister slung an arm around Rowan's shoulder. “My butt cheeks would start clenching.” Rowan shoved him off, making him bump into Jimmy, who was still gazing up at the building in front of them. There must have been genuine concern on his face as Listers farcing stopped. “Jimjam, seriously. Dont worry. It's just for one night. Then we are on our way to LA. Theres no haunted building in LA!"

"Actually," but Lister had already walked off, and towards the front door, Rowans comment ignored. The two remaining band members sighed and watched him go, Cecily following not far behind.

“You know, there's a way we could get him back for Peegate."

That caught Jimmy's attention, and he was finally looking away from the rafters. Peegate had happened two weeks prior, during their stop in Texas. Lister had hidden on the tour bus after a stop at a rest station and then texted Rowan, telling them they'd forgotten him while he’d gone into the petrol station to use the toilets. After what was most definitely an illegal U-turn by their driver and fifty frenzied calls to Lister's phone, he’d come out of hiding, all giggles.

So yes. Jimmy was more than happy to get back at him.

The interior wasn’t much better than the exterior of the building. Jimmy thought that it wouldn’t be out of place for a period drama to take place in the room he was supposed to be sleeping in.

There was an ensuite at least, but it was currently occupied by Lister, who had called dibs on the first shower. Jimmy had put up just enough of a fight for it to seem convincing before Lister disappeared behind the door and the spray of water could be heard.

With a text to Rowan to let him know, Jimmy only had to wait all of ten seconds before the bassist was tiptoeing into the room and shuffling under the bed. There was a muffled curse as he hit his head on the frame, but soon after he went quiet, and they both waited for the drummer to reappear.

As was expected, Lister was quick out. His was still dripping with water and his usual pale skin was tinted red from the scalding heat he enjoyed in the shower, but he was thankfully dressed. With a towel wrapped around his shoulders, he yawned loudly and shuffled over to the bed. He had two hands resting on the wood of the bedpost, leaning over to press a loud and exaggerated kiss to the crown of Jimmy's head.

“Bathrooms free, sweetheart—HOLY FUCK!” With a full-body jerk, Lister stumbled backwards. He was screeching incoherently, his right leg raised off the floor.

“Somethinggrabbedmesomethinggrabbedme!” He was pointing frantically under the bed. Jimmy couldn’t keep it in and keeled over laughing. He could hear Rowan laughing just as hard under the bed, and soon he was wriggling his way out. When his upper half was visible he laid on his back, arm over his flushed red face as he continued to cackle.

Jimmy could feel his breath start to catch and reminded himself to breathe in and out correctly, but the look on Listers face made it hard to do so. He looked a true mix of dumbfounded and enraged.

“You bastard!” He stomped his foot like a petulant toddler. One hand was placed on his chest, and he was breathing heavier than normal. "That's not funny, Rowan." But he couldn’t hide the slight twitch in his lips. “You're the worst. What if I'd been naked, huh?" This only served to make Rowan laugh harder.

He scooted the full way out from under the bed and flopped onto his back next to where Jimmy sat. He was starting to calm down now, a hand over his own heart like Listers had been. The blonde sighed and laid down next to him. Jimmy turned so that he was facing their faces again.

"That's what you get for the butt comment.” Jimmy poked Listers rib and earned a swat at his knee in return.

“And Peegate. Don't forget Peegate."

“Shut it, Omondi. Now spoon me as an apology.” After a few bickering comments back and forth, the tallest agreed and turned on his side to hug the drummer, who in turn held his arms out for Jimmy, who gladly accepted. They were on top of the covers still, but none of them seemed to care as they slotted together and fell asleep.

The next morning, they received their usual Poor Hotel Etiquette lecture from Cecily.

Worth it. 

[doamarierose-honoka]

As the days draw closer to the release of the Knuckles show, more and more Sonic games are getting in on the cross promotion frenzy. Last weekend, Sonic Speed Simulator got first dibs in introducing Movie Knuckles and the gang into their game. Now it's SEGA Hardlight's turn!

The Sonic mobile game devs tweeted out a tease showing off three new characters arriving to not just Sonic Forces Mobile, but Sonic Dash too! Meet Series Knuckles, Drummer Cream and the long overdue Metal Sonic 3.0!

This isn't the first time Movieverse Knuckles arrived in Forces or Dash, but this is SERIES Knuckles, sporting his famous treasure hunting cap!

But let's not rule out Metal 3.0, who has been making quite the resurgence lately in his appearances! He is not only in Sonic Speed Simulator, but he also got his own merch in the Jakks Pacific product line! Now he makes the jump to not one, but two mobile games! Not bad for a recolor that only appeared in Sonic Rivals 2, no?

Hardlight also tweeted out the release dates for all three characters so you know just when to log in and start running!

Series Knuckles: April 26th

Drummer Cream: May 13th

Metal Sonic 2.0: May 20th

No word on if these characters will also show up in Sonic Prime Dash or Sonic Dash+ , but chances are Drummer Cream and Metal 3.0 will arrive sooner or later. Movie characters don't seem to be in these alternative versions however.

On top of the official announcements, an additional character was spotted in a recent datamine: Pyromancer Blaze! A more mystical take on the fiery cat, she looks to be an addition to this sub series of new Black Knight inspired alts starting with Paladin Amy.

What do you think of this new lineup of racers? Looking to collect them all?

[yellowsugarwords]

which instruments would ericsons kids + aj clem james play?

this is so fun ahhhh!!!

Clementine: Clementine loved learning how to play the piano, but was tinkering around with learning guitar. She hoped that one day, with enough practice, she would be great at both. The act of playing and listening to music was relaxing. She wanted to offer that to the others.

AJ: AJ had always wanted to learn how to play the ukulele after seeing it in books and comics. When Clementine had found one in the back room, he was thrilled. He tinkered with it every day, even until Clementine told him it was time for bed and to put it away for the day.

Marlon: Marlon learned to play the guitar when he was younger, but was denied the opportunity to attend a class at Ericson due to ‘bad behavior’. When the apocalypse started and Louis handed him one he found in the music room, Marlon cracked his fingers and began. Slightly rusty, but he slowly got back into the swing of it.

Louis: While Louis loved the piano, he was gradually trying to teach himself the cello. He thought it would be a beautiful combo if he could continue to teach Clem the piano and they could play together. He thought it would sound beautiful.

Violet: Violet was trying to learn every percussion instrument she could get her hands on. The triangle, maracas, drums, the tambourine, and bongos were only a handful of the instruments she was attempting to learn. She could be a one woman band if she kept it up.

Mitch: Drums. First, he loved being able to smack things with full force, but Mitch had quick reflexes. He was able to play a full drum solo with ease. It only took him 2 weeks before he sounded like he had been a drummer for years.

Willy: Willy had always wanted to learn the trumpet, and when the apocalypse began, he realized he could. He called dibs on using the trumpet as a wake-up call within the building (outside of walker range) and had been practicing learning notes and tunes ever since.

Aasim: Acoustic guitar. He loved to pluck away, teaching himself different chords, sounds, and melodies. Every now and then, when he was feeling confident, he would bring it outside to their nightly bonfire, playing a soft song that he had just finished - or was in the process of - writing.

Ruby: Cello. She loved being able to sit in the old music room, where the abandoned instruments had been tucked away, playing for hours. She was entirely self-taught - she hadn’t taken a music class when the school was open - but found the movements and sounds to be relaxing.

Tenn: Tenn was gradually learning piano with the help of Louis. Whenever he had free time and wasn’t sketching, he would sit in the study, plunking away at the keys, trying to make a song of his very own.

Omar: Omar had always loved the sound of banjos and decided to finally give it a shot once the apocalypse began. He had free time on his hands, and the practice was good for his mind. Eventually, he brought his banjo out to the campfire every Friday night, and everyone laughed, clapped, and danced.

Brody: Brody loved the violin. She had found one that was slightly beaten up in the back of the music room and claimed it as her own, even carving her initials onto the back. Through books in the library, she gradually began to teach herself. He practiced every day and gradually became a master.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

[forlorn-crows]

Your post about potential future earth ghoul naming caused a funny thought i wanted to share: what would we call an earth/quintessence ghoul? quintessence reminds me of space, space + earth? Mars.

mars just makes me think of @waywardsamaritan first now

but! mars would be good if they were a BEEG ghoul. not that mars the planet is particularly "big", but it also makes me think of mars the god of war, who is arguably big in stature. and if they're a drummer? bangin' on shit like theres no tomorrow, just like mountain.

and then their nickname could be mars bars hehehehehe

i also hc that aeon (phantom) is a lil bit earth. that ghoul cannot be full quint, i dont believe it. but maybe now that ive seen how fuckin bENDY HE IS? could be part water. idfk

uhhhh but yeah, mars! i wouldn't be mad at a ghoul named mars. i also like Jupiter for a big boy full quint ghoul.

hopefully we wont have to be thinking about naming another damn ghoul for a while lmao. these last two were wayyyyy too stressful. but if its mountain who goes next, like i said, i and all the other mountain sluts call naming dibs /lh

[builtlikeastickofcelery]

I BROKE. TIME TO INFODUMP

FIRSTLY: this is mostly based off of 2012 with some rise influence.

In this au splinter is absent for most of their early lives due to him believing his kids would be safer without the foot targeting him (i promise there’s a plot to this but for now its gonna be silly). And since theres gonna be a plot thats about it ! Oh also they met april at 11 yrs old I think and Casey just a little bit before the story starts

ANWAY HAVE SOME BULLET POINTS

Casey tries to do their own facial piercings

The piercings almost always get infected

They have to go to donnie for help

April wears her iconic hat to hide her dark roots (shes not a real ginger!!)

Leo is technically the second-oldest they just have a complex

the turtles steal most of their food

April goes to a bouldering gym and can scale buildings

Casey plays roller derby

donnie is the oldest despite the fact that they’re all 15

None of them could cook until the age of 12

They all play dnd passionately

donnie is the oldest because he said he scientifically proved (lied) it and everyone else called dibs on who would be next oldest (raph and Leo agreed to tie)

now take some character blurb thingies that go by age

April: april is 16 and has a driver’s license (could technically be a junior in hs but she’s not), shes very cool and accidentally went ginger at some point then just decided she liked it?? No one knows. They go to a lot LOT of concerts and also rock climbs and she loves women. Also a drummer in a band called smth that i will figure out later. Definitely takes a lot of responsibility for the wellbeing of the turtles due to their situation but like subtly. they for sure got their own issues but chooses to ignore em a lot of the time. Only child (lameee)

Donnie: hes 15 and pretends hes biologically the oldest (he is not they’re all the same age). he made all the blueprints for the lair once it was decided it was too small. hes very good at stealing stuff which is how he gets most of his materials, learned how to hack into ATMS a while ago but thinks it’s morally wrong (only used in desperate measures). Doesn’t mind not being the leader since he knows his claims of being the oldest are total bs but definitely adopted an oldest child mentality. Keeps a lot of problems a secret from his “younger” brothers and mostly talks to april about it. Extremely silly. Main doctor but also very squeamish specifically about bones (not broken bones, just the concept). Purple everything. He has access to every one of his sibling’s internet accounts he just doesn’t tell them about it. Also the main cook, since he would try and read whatever books they could find in dumpsters, especially when they were kids. Shares leo’s space interests less because of a show and more because of science stuff. Didn’t like Casey at first but they got close super fast later on. He is the best thief out of all of them (shhhh).

Casey: also 15, in april’s grade. Knows april from Spanish tutoring despite the fact they’re latine (haha if im violently whiteified my little guys have to be too) very into punk subculture and roller derby and also engineering/mechanics (I’m very excited to show off his vigilante equipment). Constantly does dumb shit for no apparent reason. Very much similar to 2012 casey (says “thats so metal dudes” anytime anything horrifying/dangerous happens). They also have had weird unspoken tension with everyone completely by accident and cant stop falling off of buildings. They have zero fighting skills or training but somehow haven’t died yet. Missing one tooth, top of the mouth next to his right canine (replaced with a glow-in-the-dark plastic one don’t ask them how it stays in).

Leo: 15, self-proclaimed second oldest and leader. (they have a complex probably) they’re only the leader because [HAHAHAHA PLOT AND BACKSTORY] and everyone else just stuck with it. They try very very hard to be silly and goofy but are also constantly anxious, not specifically about their siblings but like in general. Very very hesitant, prefers stealth (and stupid jokes) to direct confrontation. very close with raph since they’re “twins” (all of them are the same age). Intense sci-fi/space obsession, they’ve watched every single episode of their world’s equivalent to Star Trek (and all the movies) and also had a huge nonfiction phase which is still ongoing, fueled by stolen textbooks and endless internet videos . They also write fanfiction (secretly and make fun of other people who do to throw off their siblings it doesn’t work at all). They are so so lame and i love them so much.

Raph: 15, also second oldest, very very overprotective but like low-key about it. Super close with april and leo. Does all the confrontation and has accidentally been confused to be the leader of the team (CONSTANTLY ends up in hostage situations to the point it’s almost funny). ALLERGIC to Feelings he will Die if he has to talk about things so he mostly vents by tearing up his room and then feeling bad abt it. Made donnie help him find leo’s fanfics and then swore him to secrecy forever. Very distrustful, secretly super artsy, weirdly obsessed with messing with ppls hair (probably because he is surrounded by bald ppl). Also secretly a fashion icon, he has a disguise specifically so he can go to the mall with april and look at clothes for fun. He is physically the strongest out of everyone and has a really bad habit of using himself as their meat shield. Accidentally very very silly dude.

Mikey: 15 the Absolute Youngest by request. He is objectively the best fighter but is constantly being sidetracked by his siblings taking hits/taking out enemies for him (look theyre all just Like That). Really really smart when in a crisis, but for some reason not in a low pressure situation. She tries to cook but ultimately prefers baking. He’s also good at building things, so he usually hangs out with donnie in his workshop and made a lot of the lair’s furniture though he somehow can’t build anything from ikea. Also knows about leo’s fanfic career and accepted a bribe of a hubcap chandelier (?) to not tell anyone. Leo never made him a chandelier but at this point she has completely forgotten about it. Is secretly a beta reader for the fics and pretends she doesn’t know leo, except for when he describes very very distinct details of their home as suggestions for a room or something. Will continue to do this until leo either has a nervous breakdown or realizes it’s him. 

PLEASE ASK ME MORE ABOUT HTESE GUYS IM BEGGING YOU AUGHGHGGH

[sinceileftyoublog]

This Is The Kit & Gruff Rhys Live Show Review: 10/19, Lincoln Hall, Chicago

This Is The Kit's Kate Stables

BY JORDAN MAINZER

On This Is The Kit's latest album Careful Of Your Keepers (Rough Trade), Kate Stables asks many questions without expecting answers to all of them. "When are we gonna get there, when are they?" "If we're holding hands, will we walk at the same speed?" "Boy, I'm talking to you, are you listening?" Okay, maybe that last one is easy (he's definitely not listening), but for the most part, Stables' philosophical quandaries and mantra-like repetitions are metaphors for the uneasy and paradoxical nature of relationships and time. "This is a how shit is this measuring stick," she sings, tongue twisted, on album opener "Goodbye Bite", having difficulty pinpointing exact beginning and ending points of certain eras in her life. If vagaries are the name of the game for This Is The Kit, the band's live performance last Thursday at Lincoln Hall brought to life, via instrumentation, Stables' gently agitated state.

This Is The Kit's Stables and Rozi Plain

Take "Goodbye Bite", and its concoction of sinewy guitars, bass, synth, and woodwinds: When you're listening to it, it feels like it's encircling your brain, threatening to wedge its way in. Stables, bassist Rozi Plain, guitarist Neil Smith, and drummer Lucien Chatin made sure it finally did when presented live, with a looser structure. Holding it all together, though, was Stables' voice, smoky in contrast to the wiry guitars of "Slider", seeming like it wanted to leap off the page on "Stuck in a Room", a song about wanting to leave where you are but having to stay. Stables' deft delivery sported the stamina of an MC, but over the band's taut music, it sounded like it was bursting at the seams. The elastic-rigid dynamic made its way to even old songs, like on the interplay between Stables' spritely banjo and Chatin's controlled toms on "Bullet Proof".

This Is The Kit

I should emphasize one more time: Just because Stables--and really, almost all people--has trouble quantifying abstractions like time, doesn't mean the band can't show off their tightness. On the Nick Drake lilt of "This Is When The Sky Gets Big", Stables and Plain staggered their harmonies to stunning effect. "Inside Outside" captivated with a jazzy groove. Really, the main image on "Scabby Head and Legs", that of a pigeon who holds eggs too tight and breaks them, seems like a warning signal for the band itself, who instead follow Stables' repeated advice of "cutting once, measuring twice." Yet, they break the rules when they want to, as long as they know that they're breaking the rules. Or, as Stables sings on "Dibs", "Let's pretend to not know that we're out of time."

Gruff Rhys

Though This Is The Kit's growth is certainly organic, enlisting Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals as producer on Careful Of Your Keepers is as natural a match as I can remember in recent memory, his experimental whimsy bringing out just enough circular strangeness to the band's sound. Lucky for us, Rhys gave an opening set on Thursday, which meant that he did come out to do backing vocals on a couple TITK songs like on the record. It also meant we got to hear some unreleased songs from his upcoming album Sadness Sets Me Free, the title track, "Bad Friend", and the already released "Celestial Candyfloss" among them. That Rhys played mostly an acoustic set meant he didn't give away what the new songs sound like on record. For one, he admitted to not knowing them very well. The finger-picked guitars on "Celestial Candyfloss" are totally overshadowed by the orchestral chamber pop of the studio version. Sure, some back catalog highlights, like "Lonesome Words" and the metronome-laden "If We Were Words (We Would Rhyme)", were not far cries from their respective studio versions. But Rhys was able to play with volume and his ever-changing distance from the microphone to create a sonic spaciousness on "Pang!" and the melancholy hum of "Shark Ridden Waters". Best, these versions may eventually see the light of day, as Rhys claimed he was recording for a live album, as he held up title cards to a surprisingly sparse crowd that said things like, "Generic audience reaction" so we knew when to cheer. He didn't have to, though. Those of us who were there knew it wouldn't be every day we'd be able to witness two forcefully creative entities on the same night: Our cheers were constant.